Bellarke Ramblings
by AvengerGirl17
Summary: Ramble #22 Bellamy and Clarke have a much needed heart to heart after he finally finds her! DISCLAIMER: I own nothing publicly recognizable about the 100.
1. Eyes Opened by a Broken Heart

**Well, guys I just couldn't resist this! Enjoy! :)**

Clarke walked through the glass doors of her favorite coffee shop, a smile on her face as she scanned the room for her boyfriend. It had been a long day, proven by the wrinkles in her hot pink scrubs.

She'd just gotten off of an eighteen-hour shift, and all she wanted to do was have one of Willie's famous sandwiches and a nice warm cup of Jo with her man. However, the joy bled from her face when she spotted him in the arms of another woman- a beautiful dark haired woman.

Finn's gaze found her own, guilt swirling in his blue eyes. She watched as he made his way to where she stood, the woman following in his wake.

"Finn", she said, her voice uncertain.

"You must be Clarke", the woman said extending her hand, "I'm Raven, Finn has told me so much about you. Thanks for befriending my crazy boyfriend. I was so worried he would be all alone and moping in my absence."

Clarke felt her heart drop to her squeaky white hospital shoes, and a pounding began in her temples. She stared at Finn, her eyes glazing over as she backed away from him.

"Clarke, I…"

"No, I get it. You and Raven should catch up", she said quietly.

"I'll call you later", he said quickly.

Clarke didn't bother to answer; she just turned and walked from the building. When she stood on the sidewalk, she looked up at the dark sky, the rain mingling with the salty tears on her cheeks. No stars shone thanks to the bright city lights, and the darkness seemed befitting of her mood.

She started to walk, not bothering to hale one of the many cabs that sped past. Her shoes became wet, her socks sliding down, and blisters forming on her heels. Her hair was soaked, water running down her face and smearing what was left of her makeup.

Her purse caused her shoulder to ache, the wet material of her scrubs chaffing her skin. She began to shake and shiver, her sobs growing in volume, as she pressed onward.

Soon a familiar brick apartment building came into view. It was on a shadier side of town, the metal stairs groaning under her feet as she climbed. The wind whipped around her, setting her off balance.

She stumbled the rest of the way to the door, knocking softly. Clarke stood in silence, feeling stupid and desperate to have come here like this. She was just about to turn and walk away when the door finally opened.

Clarke couldn't remember a time when she'd ever been so happy to see Bellamy Blake. He looked like he'd just gotten off of his shift at the precinct, his suit coat no where in sight, his tie loosened, and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

His dark eyes searched her face, and his black curls were slightly damp from the rain. An expression of pure concern painted his features, but he remained silent.

She stared at him for a minute, her mouth opening and closing as her brain searched for the words to explain. When she spoke, there was no explanation, just a desperation that should have shamed her.

"Bell", she sobbed.

His arms were wrapped around her in the next instant. He pulled her inside, his hands searching her body frantically for injuries. His breath ghosted across her skin, warm and sweet.

Bellamy pulled the purse from her arm, throwing it in a nearby chair. His apartment might not be as nice as hers, but it was just like him- safe and inviting. She really needed that right now.

He held her as she cried, never shushing her, just encouraging her to get it all out. It felt as though he was the only thing holding her together as her body threatened to fall apart.

When her tears slowed, and her sobs ceased, he drew back and framed her face with his large calloused hands.

"Tell me, Princess", he said softly, his deep voice vibrating in his chest.

"Finn", she hiccupped, "He… I… He had a girlfriend."

Clarke felt Bellamy's muscles tense beneath her hands where they lay against his chest. Then he pulled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin, and rubbing slow soothing circles on her back.

"He's an idiot", Bellamy growled.

Clarke laughed, a humorless bitter sound, "I'm pretty sure I'm the idiot in this situation."

Suddenly she found herself staring into a pair of dark brown eyes, their warmth fleeing to be replaced with cold anger.

"This is not your fault. This is all him, he did this. You did nothing wrong, do you hear me?"

Clarke nodded, another sob rising in her chest as her shame began to melt away.

"How could he do this to me", she cried.

"I don't know, Princess, but we'll get through this- you and me. Just like always", Bellamy soothed.

Clarke sighed, her mind going back to the two most heart wrenching moments in both their lives- the day his mother died and the day only two short months later when her father was killed.

They'd clung to each other, and she'd spent many a night at the Blake house. She and Bellamy would sit on the couch, neither speaking, their hands entwined as they strove to keep the other from falling apart.

No matter what happened in her life, Bellamy Blake was always her anchor, the one person who kept her from breaking beyond repair. Now, standing in his embrace she wished she'd listened to him.

"You were right", she whispered.

Bellamy sighed, "Princess, I'm not a seer. I didn't really know that Finn was bad news. You can't use my dislike of the man as yet another reason to berate yourself."

"If I would have listened to you…"

"Then you wouldn't be the one person in my life besides my sister who stands up to me and throws all that crap back in my face."

Clarke snorted, her mind wandering to all the times when she and Bellamy had fought over the years. It didn't take much sometimes, but they'd never been able to stay mad for long.

She was pulled from her thoughts, when his fingers gently lifted her chin to bring her gaze even with his own.

"You're soaking wet. Go get a warm shower, I'll get you some clothes to change into and make some coffee. We'll get through this, sweetheart."

Clarke hugged him to her one last time before making her way to his master bathroom. Sure she could have used the guest bath, but Bell's soap and shampoo weren't in there.

When she was clean, her face scrubbed free of makeup and her hair smelling of the Old Spice shampoo that Bell loved, she dressed in a pair of his athletic shorts and one of his NYPD t-shirts.

She made her way back into the living room, plopping down on the couch beside him. He'd changed clothes, now reclining shirtless in a pair of sweats. It should have been weird, but it felt like home.

Clarke snuggled into his side, his fingers toying with her hair as he flipped through the channels until he found a basketball game on. She listened as he grunted and whispered angrily at the screen, his favorite team missing shots left and right.

She felt her eyes growing heavy, her lashes soon fluttering to lay soft against her pale cheeks. She smiled, Bellamy's body heat seeping through the thin material of her t-shirt. Finn was the farthest thing from her mind with Bell's heart beating beneath her hand.

Bellamy stared down at the sleeping blonde, her fingers dancing above his heart as she dreamed. It had shocked him, and terrified him, when he'd found her standing on his doorstep.

She'd looked so lost, like her whole world was falling apart. Wrapping her shivering form in his embrace had felt like the most natural thing in the world. Then when she'd told him about Finn, his protective instincts had flared to life.

How could the man be so stupid? Didn't he know that she deserved better?

Bellamy was pulled from his thoughts when Clarke's phone began to buzz from its place on his scarred coffee table. He picked it up, Finn's picture immediately causing his rage to boil over.

He laid Clarke down, smiling at her little whimper of protest. He stalked to his bedroom, closing the door before answering the phone.

"Clarke…", Finn said.

"What do you want Spacewalker", Bellamy seethed.

"Blake, where is she?"

"She's safe. What were you thinking putting her in that position?!"

"I…I, you know what! I don't have to explain myself to you", Finn said indignantly.

"That's where you're wrong, Collins. Where she's concerned you do answer to me. I'd better not hear that you've even looked at her, let alone talked to her. I want you out of her life, understood?"

"You can't just order me to never see her again", Finn said angrily.

"You're right, that's why I'm asking. You nearly destroyed her, Finn", Bellamy said, his voice tired.

The other man sighed, his voice quiet when next he spoke.

"I love her, Bellamy. I met her and it was like Raven and I never happened."

"Well, you did happen, Finn", Bellamy hissed, "And for all of your talk of loving Clarke, you've hurt her. You betrayed her trust, and you've made her feel dirty and used. I'd better not see you anywhere near her or I'll handle this. Do I make myself clear?"

Finn could hear the promise in the other man's words, and he knew what would happen. He'd end up with a busted face, and busted pride. Bellamy Blake didn't make threats he couldn't make good on.

"Fine, I'll stay away, but if she comes to me I'm not going to just walk away."

"She's not going to come looking for you, Spacewalker…"

Finn stared down at his phone, the line dead. He shook his head, knowing that he'd messed up, and there was no way to fix it.

Bellamy walked back into the living room, the greenish glow of the TV lighting his way. He could just make out Clarke's sleeping form on the couch, her blonde hair spilling in all directions.

He'd just turned off the television, and was headed back to his room when he heard her voice. It was thick and groggy, her words slurring slightly.

"Bell", she called, "Come back to bed."

Bellamy turned to stare at her, taking in how she'd made room for him, her eyes not even open. He fought a momentary internal battle over whether to ignore her and crawl in his empty bed or join her on the couch.

The couch won out as he lay down beside her, taking her into his arms. She snuggled against his chest, her nose nuzzling his neck. Her little sigh brought a smile to his lips, and her hum of satisfaction caused him to chuckle.

"Don't laugh at me, Bellamy Blake. You're warm", she whispered, her words lazy.

"I'm not complaining, Princess", he answered quietly.

"Good because I was thinking we should do this more often", Clarke slurred.

Bellamy sucked in a startled breath, hoping she wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning. Next thing he knew, the blonde's breathing had evened out and her body had once again gone slack. It was only moments later that he too was fast asleep.

Clarke woke to a baritone, warm and deep, filtering from the kitchen. She cracked open one eye, not even surprised to find herself in Bellamy's apartment. She got up, running a hand through her tangled waves in an attempt to bring order to the ratted mass.

She entered the kitchen; Bellamy's smile causing a fire to ignite in her chest. He nodded at one of the bar stools lining the tiny island, and poured her a cup of coffee as he finished his concert.

This was one thing she loved, waking up to Bellamy's early morning recitals. It had been at least two years since she'd heard him sing, and as he the notes died on his tongue, she would happily admit to wanting to make this an every morning occurrence.

"Morning, Princess", he grinned.

"Morning, Bell. What's for breakfast? I'm starved", Clarke groaned.

Bellamy smiled pulling a skillet from one of the bottom cabinets before reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of eggs.

"Mmmmm", Clarke moaned in appreciation, "You're making me an omelet!"

"How could I not", Bellamy said with mock indignation.

Clarke enjoyed the view as Bellamy beat the eggs, poured them in the skillet, and then let them cook. Her mouth began to water as he put little bits of bacon, mushrooms, onions, and peppers on top of the fluffy omelet before topping it with cheese and folding it up.

He put the plate before her, and then produced a glass of chocolate milk.

"You're spoiling me, Mr. Blake", she said with a grin.

"You deserve to be spoiled", he replied seriously.

Clarke stared at him for a moment, her heart stuttering in her chest. She did deserve better than Finn, although to be fair since coming to Bellamy's the night before her ex had been the furthest thing from her mind.

Suddenly the blonde saw everything clearly, what she'd been moving towards for years. Bellamy was like the sun, a powerful gravitational force that just kept pulling her in.

She got up from the stool, coming to stand behind him. She was just about to reach out and touch him, when a knock sounded at the door.

"I'll get it", Clarke called, wanting to get whoever it was gone so she could tell Bellamy all about her discovery.

She opened the door, her mouth falling open in shock when she found Finn standing before her. However, shock soon turned to anger, boiling over in heated waves.

"What are you doing here", she asked.

"Clarke, I need to talk to you. You can't just throw what we had away. I can break up with Raven, things can go back to the way they were."

Clarke stared at him, wondering if the man had taken leave of his senses.

"The way things were was a lie, Finn. You don't really love me, no matter how much you claim to, and I…"

Before the blonde could finish, a low growl sounded behind her. She turned to find Bellamy standing with his fists balled at his sides, his features dark and foreboding.

"Collins, I thought I told you to stay away from her", Bellamy practically yelled.

"I can't let her go! I love her, and I have to make this up to her", Finn said pleadingly, his gaze never leaving Clarke.

"You don't get to come to my apartment, and beg someone that I care deeply for to come back to you after you've broken her heart. That's not how this is going to go down, and if you think I'm going to stand by and watch it happen then you're delusional."

"This is between me and Clarke, Blake! You don't get a say", Finn sneered.

Before Clarke could move Bellamy had Finn by the shirt collar and was hauling him down the stairs. As soon as they got to the bottom, Bellamy belted Finn in the mouth so hard that the other man fell to the ground.

Clarke rushed down the stairs, taking in the victorious smile on Finn's face when he thought she would come to his aid. Instead, she stopped before Bellamy, taking his already bruising appendage in her hands.

"Bell, you didn't have to do that", she said quietly.

"I'm not letting him hurt you again", Bellamy said, his dark eyes filled with quiet conviction.

Clarke looked from one man to the other, both so different. Finn was still sprawled on the pavement; while Bellamy looked straight ahead with his jaw clenched so tight she feared his molars would break.

She began to rub slow circles against Bellamy's palm, his brown eyes falling on her face.

"Bell, you don't have to worry about that. I was wrong, I was just using Finn to distract me", she said, "I never loved him. I've loved you since I was sixteen, but I just couldn't admit it. I was afraid, but I'm not anymore. I love you, Bellamy Blake, and you're all I'll ever want or need."

Clarke watched as Bellamy's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open in surprise. She quickly took advantage, standing on tiptoe to capture his lips with her own. She felt him sigh, his arms wrapping around her and his hands tangling in her hair.

She gently fingered the silky curls at the nape of his neck, Finn's voice registering faintly in the background. She felt Bellamy's hesitancy as he pulled away, his forehead resting against hers.

Clarke addressed Finn, her voice ringing on the cool morning air, but her eyes remained fastened on the gorgeous dark gaze of Bellamy Blake.

"Get lost, Spacewalker. We're through", she said with a smile.

"But Clarke…"

"You heard the Princess. Scram", Bellamy growled, his gaze never leaving Clarke.

The couple turned away from Finn Collins, walking hand in hand back to Bellamy's kitchen and their breakfast.

Four years later…

Clarke lay in she and Bellamy's bed, watching as he unbuttoned his light blue dress shirt. He'd just gotten home from an investigation of a local jewelry store robbery, and he looked tired.

"Come here", she beckoned, watching as his arms fell to his sides as he made his way over to the bed.

She removed his shirt, pitching it in the floor before turning back to him. She laid her hands on his shoulders, kneading the tired muscles with experience born of many nights of practice.

"Mmmm, have I told you how much I love you", Bellamy asked.

"Not since, oh about lunch time I guess", Clarke said with a giggle.

She felt her husband move, and then he was hovering above her, his lips ghosting just below the shell of her ear.

"I love you", he whispered huskily, placing a kiss against her neck.

After every kiss, his soft declaration of "I love you" followed until his lips found her own. She reveled in his touch, breathing him in as his hands traveled down her sides, and back up to frame her face.

She was just about to suggest an encore performance of earlier that morning, what could she say- she loved to watch her husband shave, when their bedroom door creaked open.

The couple turned to watch as their three year old walked into their room, dragging his favorite teddy bear his Auntie O and Uncle Linc had bought the day he was born.

"Hey, buddy", Bellamy called softly.

Clarke grinned as she watched the little boy move to the foot of the bed and pitch Mr. Rebel onto the mattress before climbing up himself. She motioned their son forward, loving the way his dark curls shone in the lamplight.

"What are you doing up", she asked as Jake snuggled in between them.

"I had a bad dweam", the little boy answered.

"Well you know Daddy will take care of that right", Clarke said in a hushed tone.

Jake nodded, his blue eyes already beginning to droop, "Daddy's brave."

"Yes, he is. Daddy always protects us, just like the knight in our stories", Clarke answered, "Did Mommy ever tell you about the time the knight saved the princess from the dragon?"

The little boy shook his head, and Clarke prepared to begin her story, her hand running through her son's curls as she watched her husband ready for bed. When Bellamy was situated on the other side of Jake, his fingers toying with her curls, she began.

"Once upon a time, a long time ago, there lived a princess. She was held captive by a terrible dragon named Finn. One day a knight came along, a brave knight with dark curls just like Daddy. He rescued her from the dragon, making her feel safe and loved for the first time since the dragon had captured her. The princess realized on that day that she loved the knight, had for a very long time. They were married three short months later, and their son came a year later", Clarke finished.

She looked down to find Jake fast asleep, his dark lashes fanned against his olive skin. Her gaze then found Bellamy, his brown eyes warm and a smile curving his lips.

"I love you, Princess", he said softly, kissing her with a passion that could only come from a man truly and deeply in love.

"I love you too, my handsome knight", she whispered against his lips.

Just before sleep claimed her, Clarke thought back to that dreadful night all those years ago. A smile sprang to her lips as memories surfaced, Bellamy's strong arms holding her tight and his deep voice soothing away her hurt.

So, now as she watched her husband and her son sleep, all Clarke Blake can think about is how thankful she is that Finn Collins crushed her heart because Bellamy Blake had done a fantastic job of mending it.

**Please review! I may also take a few prompts here and there so pm me or something! :)**


	2. Bridge Over Troubled Water

**Well guys thanks for your patience! Enjoy! :)**

Bellamy sat staring into the flames of one of the many campfires that had been built to ward off the evening chill. He was quiet, listening to the conversations around him, but showing no interest or inclination in taking part.

Octavia watched him from her place beside Lincoln, worry marring her features. Her brother had changed since Clarke had left four months ago. He'd become withdrawn and distant, nothing like the passionate leader he'd been before the blonde's disappearance.

She could still recall the first weeks after Clarke left, the way Bellamy refused to allow anyone to go after her saying that she deserved this time. Abby had argued with him, but he'd stood firm.

They'd all conceded, knowing deep down that he understood Clarke better than anyone. However, as the weeks wore on and the blonde didn't return, Bellamy became agitated.

He started going out almost daily to search for her, and he did this for nearly two months. He would leave before the sun had risen, taking a small team, and return well after nightfall.

Everyone knew he never slept, could see his desperation grow as the nights became colder and soon the days followed, frost covering the ground in a blanket of white. He was becoming frantic, always moving- always searching.

Kane put a stop to it just two months ago, and Bellamy's fury had been heard throughout older man had argued that winter was fast approaching, Bellamy firing back that he was more than aware of this.

"All the more reason for me to search", Bellamy had yelled.

"What if she doesn't want to be found", Kane had said with quiet conviction.

Darkness hovered in the younger man's gaze, his lips forming a hard line as his features changed from an expression of rage to worry.

"Something may have happened. If it were me out there she'd never give up."

Kane had watched the Rebel walk away, knowing that he spoke the truth. The two young leaders were an interesting dynamic, a strange tangle of strength and weakness.

Bellamy hadn't stopped; he'd just started going alone. Kane allowed his unsanctioned "hunting" trips, knowing the younger man was slowly but surely beginning to unravel.

The weeks marched on, and Bellamy withdrew. He ate alone when he took the time for a meal, and even his tent became too claustrophobic. He often slept away from camp, his screams echoing out over the quiet forest when he woke from yet another nightmare.

Every night was the same. His tired mind picturing Clarke in various terrible scenarios, injured or dying, her blood coating his hands as he fought to keep her with him.

They always ended the same way; Clarke's voice washing over him in chilling waves a she whispered a quiet, broken goodbye. Her eyes haunted him during the day, the bright sky blue orbs burned into his memory.

The only reason his sister knew about his nightmares was because of Lincoln. The man had heard his screams while he was out hunting one morning, and had come upon Bellamy sitting huddled against a tree as he fought to bring his breathing under control.

"What happened", Lincoln had asked.

"Nightmare", Bellamy gasped.

Lincoln stared at the other man, knowing exactly what plagued him. He'd suffered from the same night terrors, every night watching himself kill his beautiful Octavia because he hadn't been strong enough to resist the red.

"Clarke", the Grounder asked finally.

Bellamy only nodded, his skin pale and eyes fearful.

"Something's happened, Lincoln, something terrible. It's the only explanation I have for why she hasn't come back."

"Bellamy, I'm not going to tell you she's fine or that I know exactly how you feel. What I will tell you is that you can't keep allowing this guilt to consume you."

Bellamy surged forward, anger clearly written in his dark eyes.

"Guilt! I let her walk away! Whatever happens to her is my fault! I'm supposed to protect her!"

Lincoln stepped back, feeling as though the Rebel's fiery gaze and furious declaration had burned him. He simply nodded, telling Bellamy to never forget that he had people who cared for him.

He'd left him then, knowing there was nothing he could do. He told Octavia that night about her brother's guilt and the dreams that seemed to plague him during the midnight hours and even through the light of day.

Octavia was pulled from her thoughts as her gaze landed on her brother, the flames casting shadows on his tired features. The angles of his face stood out in sharp contrast to the soft dark curls that framed his face.

He needed a shave, dark stubble making his intense expression even more ominous. His hands never seemed to stop moving, picking at the fabric of his pants or wringing together while his gaze remained preoccupied with the orange glow of the fire.

He looked like a man who'd give up, and it frightened her. He barely spoke some days, and others all he did was yell in frustration. Oddly, they preferred those days to his silence.

Anger rose within her. How could Clarke do this to him? How could she leave him to bear this burden alone? This was her fault, and it was high time someone opened his eyes to that fact.

Octavia stood, her eyes burning with her rage.

"She's never coming back", she said.

Bellamy didn't look up, his gaze fixed on the dancing shadows cast by the fire.

"Did you hear me, big brother? She's never coming back! This is her fault and she deserves whatever happens to her out there!"

Then he stood, his dark eyes cold and his stance rigid as he faced her.

"Don't", he said in a barely audible whisper.

"No, it's time that someone told you about the _real_ Clarke Griffin! She knew, Bell. She knew about Tondc! She was prepared to let me die, and everyone else! She let that happen Bellamy. This woman you're searching for doesn't deserve to be found", Octavia spat harshly.

She watched as Bellamy's eyes widened at her declaration, and then he swayed slightly as he turned away from her. She didn't miss the way his hand moved to settle over his heart, nor did she miss the way his breathing became labored.

Suddenly everyone sitting around their fire, Monty, Jasper, Raven, Wick, Lincoln, and Octavia, watched as Bellamy fell to his knees. One of his hands dug into the dark earth, while the other still gripped his chest.

His sister rushed forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He was scaring her, his breath coming in quick gasps and his body trembling.

"What is it? What's the matter", she asked.

He raised his head then, his dark gaze boring into hers, and she was taken aback by the sight.

"Never tell me what she deserves", Bellamy rasped.

"I'm sor…"

"Never tell me of her sins and think for one second that they are darker than my own."

Octavia watched as her brother grimaced, his features contorting in pain as he struggled with each breath.

"Someone get Abby", she cried.

Abigail Griffin made it on the scene exactly three minutes later, finding the Rebel still kneeling in the dirt.

"What happened", she asked.

"I don't know", O answered, "He just collapsed."

Abby knelt before her patient, "Tell me what's going on Blake."

"Can't breath", he gasped.

"Lincoln, Wick, help me get him to med bay", she said quickly.

She watched as both men moved forward, and helped Bellamy to his feet. She ran ahead of them, prepping the med bay for their arrival.

After Bellamy was laid on one of the metal tables, she quickly went about checking his pulse, listening to his heartbeat, and checking his blood pressure.

His pulse was fast, his heartbeat erratic, and his blood pressure high. Bellamy Blake had all of the symptoms of a panic attack.

"You had a panic attack, Bellamy", she answered finally.

Abby watched as the man simply nodded, his dark eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Not the first time", he answered dryly.

"What do you mean 'Not the first time'", Octavia asked.

"I've had them several times over the past four months."

"Why didn't you tell anyone", Abby prodded.

"Didn't seem important", the man murmured, "They pass and everything goes back to normal."

"What triggers them", Abby asked quietly.

Everyone watched as Bellamy swallowed thickly, his hands fisting on the table at his sides.

"Clarke", he whispered.

At his soft reply, Octavia felt like the worst sister in history. She'd caused her brother's panic attack.

"I'm so sorry, Bell", she said quietly.

However, no answer came. He just lay there staring up at the ceiling, unmoving and quiet. Things changed after that night. He spoke to no one, least of all his sister.

Another week passed, and then one day things changed.

It was late afternoon, the sun was just beginning to set, when a ghostly figure came walking from the tree line. The guards were young and green, the dark distorting their fears and carrying away their common sense.

"Stop", one of them yelled.

The figure didn't stop, it just kept approaching slowly and with its hands raised in surrender.

Bellamy heard the commotion, and rushed to the gates. Something was pulling him forward, almost as if a string was tied around his heart and someone was tugging on the other end.

He called for the gates to be opened, the large barricade swinging wide to reveal blonde hair shining in the waning sunlight. He'd just begun to make his way to her, his heart pounding, and feeling as though he was in a trance.

Bellamy had nearly reached her when a shot rang out, and his body chose that moment to betray him.

His heart constricted, sending a sharp pain through his chest. He broke out into a cold sweat, fighting for every breath. He crumbled, falling onto his back and staring up at the darkening sky.

Then, almost as if in a vision, Clarke was above him. Her blonde hair spilled around her shoulders, and her blue eyes shone just as brightly as he remembered. She was thinner, her clothing filthy and tattered.

She wore no coat, and he wanted to admonish her for being out in the cold without it. Her hands framed his face, and he could see that her lips were moving, but no sound came forth.

Clarke stared down at Bellamy, his body shivering and gasping for every breath. The guard's bullet had narrowly missed her, but her fear was quickly replaced by terror as Bellamy collapsed.

"Bellamy! Bellamy, breath!"

She removed the hand that clutched his chest and began to rub soothing circles over the taut muscles, watching as he slowly began to relax. His hands were fisted in the material of her shirt, and his dark eyes were glued to her face.

Soon his breathing began to slow, evening out to the point that he could finally speak.

"Princess", he gasped.

"I'm here, Bellamy."

"I thought I'd never see you again", he replied hoarsely.

Tears sprang to Clarke's eyes at the realization of what she'd put him through. They were always better together, they always survived together. Apart they fell to pieces.

"I'm so sorry, I never should have made you face this alone", she sobbed.

She felt his arms wrap around her as she was pulled down to lie against his chest. He took a deep breath, almost as if he was breathing her in, and he just held her tightly.

His hands toyed with her curls, and then he finally spoke.

"Never again", he said softly.

"Never again", she promised.

Clarke looked into his dark eyes, watching as the fear and pain dwindled to a tiny ember, replaced by a softness she was afraid to define. His hands tightened on her waist, as if to say he was never letting go.

Then he smiled, a sight so pure and beautiful it took Clarke's breath away. She found her lips curving in return, and then to her shock he began to tickle her. His nimble fingers poking, and prodding at her sides causing a giggle to burst forth.

They rolled around on the ground, him tickling her and her tickling him as they reveled in being together once again. Then, as Bellamy hovered above her, his features outlined in the dim moonlight, something changed.

The laughter died on her lips, but the smile remained. One of her hands rose to tangle in the curls at his nape as her eyes roved over his beloved face.

"I love you, Bellamy", she said quietly.

She watched as surprise colored his features, and then, without preamble, he was kissing her, his lips moving over hers in a soft caress.

Clarke had been kissed before, but none of those other moments compared to this one. She drank Bellamy in like a woman dying of thirst, so thankful to finally be back in his arms.

He smiled against her lips, pulling back to stare down at her.

"I love you too, Princess."

A small group of their family and friends looked on from a short distance away, smiles on their faces. Octavia watched her brother smile, a sight she'd thought she would never see again.

The pieces began to fall into place, understanding dawning on her. Clarke had allowed the missile to strike Tondc to protect Bellamy. Everything the blonde had done had been to protect those she loved, and Bellamy was clearly among that number.

However, she could tell that what Clarke Griffin felt for her brother far surpassed mere friendship. The two belonged together, and it seemed their separation had finally opened their eyes to that fact.

It surprised no one when six months later the two leaders were joined together in a Grounder marriage ceremony, leading the 100 to their new camp shortly there after.

Bellamy and Clarke had discovered that love was not their greatest weakness, but instead their greatest strength. Together they could conquer whatever life threw their way, and nothing would ever separate them again.

**Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you thought! :)**


	3. I Love You This Big

**Thanks for all of the follows, favs, and reviews! You guys are the best! I do believe this is the first double update I've done in like three weeks lol Enjoy!**

Clarke woke slowly, her eyes fluttering open at the sound of her alarm. She rolled over, hitting the snooze with more force than necessary before rolling out of bed. Her eyes were gritty and her mouth tasted gross, and then all of the sudden her world was tilting.

She threw a hand over her lips and ran for the ensuite master bath. She ignored Bellamy singing in the shower, sinking to her knees as she retched into the cavernous commode.

She didn't even hear the shower cut off, but in the next instant her husband stood beside her, dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist. One of his hands held her hair away from her face, while the other tenderly massaged her neck.

When she'd finished, Clarke found herself pulled gently to her feet and a washrag placed in her hand. She used the cold, wet cloth to wipe her face and mouth, relishing in the refreshing coolness against her heated skin.

She opened her eyes to find her husband, eyes wide with worry.

"I'm fine, Bell", she said as she moved to brush passed him.

Instead, her body tilted and she would have crashed to the hard tile floor if it weren't for Bellamy's quick reflexes.

"Princess", he cried as he quickly caught her up in his arms, carrying her back to their bed.

"Put me down, Bellamy Blake", Clarke protested weakly.

"No can do, sweetheart", her husband replied, "Not until your back in bed."

Clarke glared at him as he gently placed her on their comfy mattress, tucking her in and adjusting her pillows before standing back to admire his work.

"You're not going to work today", he said firmly.

"Yes, I…"

"Clarke, I can't be distracted today. I've got to testify at Cage Wilson's court hearing, and I can't be worrying about you while I'm on the witness stand", Bellamy said seriously.

The blonde sighed; she knew that this was a big day for her husband. He'd chased that psychopath for two years and now he had the chance to see him put away for life.

"Fine, I'll stay home", she acquiesced.

"Good girl", Bellamy hummed as he bent to kiss her forehead.

She watched as he walked out of the room, black towel slung low on his hips and his phone in hand. She could hear him speaking, probably calling Octavia or Monty to come and keep an eye on her.

She closed her eyes, willing the room to stop its spinning. Clarke listened for his light footsteps, graceful as one of the panthers at the zoo. For a man so undeniably masculine, Bellamy moved with a grace few women possessed. Granted it was a different kind of grace, but beautiful to behold all the same.

Her eyes flew open with the mattress dipped, her gaze taking in her husband now clad in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

"I called O. She'll be here before I leave for work."

"Bellamy, I'm fine. It's probably just a bug or something", Clarke protested.

"No, I'm not doing this Clarke. If you care about me at all, you'll agree to this. If not I'll be wanting to run home every five minutes and judges don't really take kindly to that."

Clarke sighed, knowing he had her over a barrel. She did love her husband, and she didn't want him to worry, and she certainly didn't want to distract him.

"Alright, I'll call…"

"Already done, Principal Denning knows you won't be in today and your classes have been covered", Bellamy interrupted.

The blonde shook her head, sinking back against her pillows and closing her eyes.

"Thanks, babe", she whispered.

"Anything for you, Princess", Bellamy replied as he softly kissed her forehead.

Clarke listened as he got ready for his day, the sounds of his routine lulling her into a very relaxed state. She could hear him as he hummed while he brushed his teeth, the running water as he shaved, the whoosh of his moose as he tamed his curls.

The smell of his aftershave and cologne wafted into the bedroom, and suddenly Clarke's stomach rolled. She jumped up; rushing passed him to once again loose the contents of her stomach.

Her husband once again held her hair back, rubbing her shoulders, and then steadying her when she would have collapsed. When she was finished, Bellamy flushed the toilet and helped her back to bed.

His face was pale, and his dark eyes fearful when he spoke, "Princess, you've got to go to the doctor. Promise me you'll go."

Clarke nodded as she slid beneath the sheets, sighing as his lips grazed hers.

"I taste bad", she grumbled.

"You taste like heaven", Bellamy answered, his hand combing through her curls, "You're like water in the desert, sweet and lifesaving."

"Always the poet."

"That's what you do to me, Princess, bring out the romantic in me", Bellamy chuckled.

Clarke's eyes opened, her hazy blue gaze fixing on his beloved features.

"I love you, Bell", she whispered.

"I love you too, Princess."

Clarke felt him place a gentle kiss on her jawline and then he was off to rummage in their closet. She watched him as he dressed in dark slacks, a white shirt, red tie, and a dark sports coat.

After he'd finished, he sat down on the bed, taking her hand in his own. His thumb brushed over her knuckles causing goose bumps to appear on her arms.

When O finally arrived, that's the way she found them, Bellamy watching Clarke sleep. He looked up at her as she entered the room, worry creasing his brow and his dark eyes fearful.

"Hey", she said softly, "Don't worry, I'll take care of her."

"Call Miller if anything happens, he'll be able to get a hold of me", Bellamy said as he stood.

Octavia smiled at his hesitancy to drop Clarke's hand. His fingers disentangling from his wife's as he slowly got to his feet. He leaned down, placing a kiss on Clarke's forehead and then gave O a hug.

"I'll keep a close eye on her, and if I feel that she needs you then I will call Miller in a heartbeat."

She watched as he nodded, one dark curl falling across his forehead. He left, stopping in the doorway to stare at his sleeping wife. Then he was gone, his black truck pulling out of the drive moments later.

Clarke opened one eye to find Octavia sitting in one of the brocade chairs positioned off to the side in the large master bedroom.

"Hey, sleepy head", she called softly, "How do you feel?"

"Tired", Clarke mumbled.

"You know you've got your husband scared half to death", O said quietly.

Clarke groaned, "I know."

"When are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know how. What if he's not ready? You know how he is, he'll freak out. You're dad not being in the picture really messed him up, and we've talked about kids. He just shuts down every time I bring it up."

"He's scared", Octavia said, "Just tell him, sweetie, I guarantee he'll be thrilled."

"But what if he isn't? What do I do", Clarke said, tears welling in her deep blue eyes.

Octavia moved to sit on the bed, taking her friend's hands in her own.

"He's going to be happy, Clarke, because he loves you. Yeah, he'll freak out and won't let you out of his sight, but he'll be happy."

"I'm scared, O. I can't lose him", Clarke said, her tears streaming down her cheeks to drip off her chin.

"You're not going to lose him over this. He won't just leave you", Octavia said, slight annoyance seeping into her voice.

Clarke knew her sister-in-law was right, but she was still terrified. Call it hormones, but for some reason everything was blown way out of proportion in her head and jumbled in her heart.

Suddenly it all became too much, she was up and hugging the toilet before O could even move from her place on the bed. She wiped her mouth, flushed, and came back to lie down.

She was exhausted, and so tired of hiding this from him.

"Fine, I'll tell him when he gets home", the blonde conceded.

"Good", O said triumphantly.

Clarke lay in bed all day, worry niggling at the back of her mind. All of the men in her life had left her. Her father had died, Wells had died, and Finn… Well, he'd betrayed her.

How could she really be sure that Bellamy wouldn't do the same? Sure, he was Bellamy, sturdy and dependable, but right now she couldn't think straight and she was scared.

Afternoon rolled around, and the blonde had worked herself into a fine mess. Octavia had never seen her like this. She was either silent or her noisy sobs echoed throughout the quiet house.

So, when Bellamy called around two Octavia knew it was time to end their suffering. She answered her phone; her brother's worry coming through loud and clear.

"How is she", he asked.

At that moment, Clarke began to sob once more and Octavia found herself shaking her head.

"She needs you Bell", O said quietly.

She heard his quick intake of breath, "I've testified, so I'm coming home."

Turns out Bellamy Blake was a speed demon because he made a thirty-minute drive in eighteen. He came rushing into the house, up the stairs, and into his master bedroom.

There he found his wife in tears, and his sister standing a few short feet away. He came forward, taking Clarke in his arms and giving his sister a glare that should have singed her eyebrows.

"What did you say", he asked.

"Bellamy Blake, don't you dare pin this on me! If it's anyone's fault, it's yours", O said angrily.

"Me, what did I do", he asked in confusion, his hands rubbing soothing circles on his wife's back.

"Oh, Bell! You are so clueless! Even Lincoln…"

Before Octavia could get another word out, Clarke's tears stopped immediately, replaced by indignation.

"Stop right there, Octavia. Bellamy is a fine husband, and a great man! You love Lincoln, that's great, but my husband is perfect just the way he is and I won't have anyone say any differently."

Bellamy stared at his wife, confused as to why she would shift from tears to spewing heated words at his first bewildered, and now smirking, sister.

"My deepest apologies, Clarke", O said with a chuckle, "I think I'm going to head home to my very imperfect husband."

As soon as his sister was gone, Clarke began to sob again.

"I don't know what came over me", she hiccupped, "I was so hateful! How could I say those things?"

Bellamy took her once more in his arms, rocking back and forth as he spoke quietly, "You don't feel well. Everyone's entitled to being grumpy when they're sick."

Bellamy felt Clarke stiffen, and then she began to wail anew.

"I'm not sick", she sobbed.

"Then what's the matter? What did the doctor say", Bellamy asked frantically.

"I'm afraid", Clarke said softly.

This had Bellamy's stomach in knots and he was pretty sure if his wife didn't start making sense soon, then he was going to be the one throwing up.

"Whatever it is, Princess, I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be right here", he said, framing her face with his hands.

"I'm pregnant", she gushed, her eyes widening at her own declaration.

They both sat in stunned silence before Bellamy's lips began to curve into a bright smile, and then he was laughing. The sound echoed off the walls, warming Clarke's heart and chasing away her fear.

"Really", he asked with childish glee.

"Really", she smiled.

Then his lips captured hers in a searing kiss she felt all the way down to her toes. Bellamy pulled away first, resting his forehead against hers.

"I'm going to be a father", he whispered.

"Yes", Clarke confirmed.

She watched as fear flickered in his dark eyes, "I don't know how."

"Bell, you raised O and she turned out great! You're going to be a great father, and anyone who says otherwise will answer to me", she growled.

They both fell silent, heat radiating between them. Then Bellamy's smile returned, his eyes sparkling with joy.

"We're going to be parents", he said in awe.

"That we are, Mr. Blake", Clarke grinned, his smile infectious.

"I don't deserve you, Princess", Bellamy said softly.

Suddenly, Clarke's soft azure gaze turned to ice and her hands moved to frame his face.

"Never say that Bellamy Blake. You and I, we belong together. We need each other, I need you the same way the earth needs the sun. Without you, my life would be a cold barren wasteland. There will never come a day when I don't yearn for your touch, that my heart doesn't skip a beat at the sight of you, or that your soft whisperings don't send a shiver down my spine. I love you, Bellamy Blake, never ever doubt that."

Bellamy pulled her close, a calm settling over him. Clarke knew him better than anyone else; she always knew exactly what to say to ease his fears.

"I love you, Princess", he whispered softly.

"I love you too, Bell."

**Thanks for reading! Please review! I love hearing from you guys! Also, if y'all have any requests I'd love to hear them! :)**


	4. Loving You is Fun

**Here's yet another ramble! Thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and favs! I just realized today that I haven't been very diligent with my thank yous and for that I greatly apologize! I'll start answering from here on out! :)**

I.

Clarke grumbled as she fought to zip her favorite blue dress. Baby Blake was growing by leaps and bounds, not enough to really show, but enough to make her clothes fit a little tighter. She found it rather inconvenient, however Bellamy, on the other hand, loved it.

She turned to watch him stroll into their master bedroom carrying his new grey sweater, his dark wash jeans contrasting maddeningly with his olive skin.

"Hey does this…"

Clarke watched as her husband's eyes rolled to the ceiling, a long suffering sigh escaping his lips and ruffling the dark curls that fell across his forehead.

"Princess, don't you dare ask me if that dress makes you look fat. You look fine."

The petite blonde smiled, her hands smoothing over the barely visible baby bump. She reached for the necklace he'd given her shortly after they found out they were expecting, a sterling silver heart interconnected with a smaller heart. Diamonds sparkled, outlining the larger heart, while a beautiful sapphire was set in the center of the smaller one.

Bellamy had spent two hundred bucks on the necklace, she only knew because she'd found the receipt crumpled up in the glove box of his truck. He said the salesperson had told him it was part of their motherhood collection and he'd immediately thought of her, the sapphire reminding him of the way her blue eyes sparkled- his words, not hers.

"Bell, will you help me", Clarke said as she turned to face her husband.

She smiled as he quickly laid his sweater down on the foot of their bed and then made his way to where she stood at her dressing table. His large fingers fumbled with the clasp for only a moment before the necklace was secured around her neck.

"There", he said with a smile before leaning down to place a gentle kiss against her pulse point.

Clarke turned in his arms, staring up into his deep brown eyes. She loved his eyes, they always gave him away, and right now they were ignited by her touch.

"You keep that up, Detective, and we'll never make it to my mother's for brunch", she said with a coy smile.

Bellamy's deep chuckle reverberated between them, the sound causing her smile to widen.

"I would never dream of making you miss a luncheon with your mother."

In all reality, Bellamy's relationship with her mother was rocky at best. The two butted heads often, always had and probably always would. He didn't like Abby's domineering attitude towards her daughter, and Dr. Griffin thought her daughter could have done better than a New York City detective, no matter how decorated he was.

"Let's just get through this then we can have a quiet evening at home and you can rub my feet", Clarke purred.

Bellamy pecked her on the lips, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth, "Anything for my Princess."

"I'll hold you to that Mister", she answered with mock severity.

"Cross my heart", her husband replied, his features boyish and sincere.

Thirty minutes later, the Blake's found themselves sitting with Abigail Griffin in the opulent dining room of the Griffin house. Clarke squirmed uncomfortably, her mother's gaze resting on her with quiet annoyance.

The smell of the cod was making her queasy, and the room was stuffy. The chairs were anything but comfortable, and she had to pee. When she shifted for what felt like the millionth time, Abby finally commented.

"What is the matter with you, Clarke? You've been fidgeting since this meal started."

Clarke winced, and then wished she had caught herself because Bellamy's expression was beginning to darken.

"I'm fine, Mom", she said quickly, "I just need to be excused for one moment to go to the powder room."

Clarke rose to leave, her chair squeaking loudly against the hardwood floor. She'd just made it to the end of the table, only feet from the exit when her mother spoke again.

"Sweetie, you really should buy a bigger size, that dress is far too tight."

Clarke spun on her heel, facing her mother with angry blue eyes.

"Mother, did you just call me fat?!"

"Well, no! I…"

"I'll have you know that it's your grandchild's fault that my clothes no longer fit", Clarke practically yelled.

Bellamy and Abby both stared her in shock. They'd agreed to tell everyone at the big party they were planning. There was going to be cake and decorations, and the blonde had been looking forward to surprising their friends and family.

Tears sprang to Clarke's eyes as she realized what she'd done. Then she stood in the doorway of her mother's dining room and wept.

"I ruined it", she hiccupped.

Bellamy was up out of his seat and by her side in five seconds flat. He gently swiped at her tears with the pads of his thumbs as he tried to calm his pregnant wife's meltdown.

"You're mother's not going to tell anyone, will you Abby", Bellamy said throwing a pleading look over his shoulder at his mother-in-law.

"Of course not! You can still surprise everyone, Sweetie", Abby said with a smile.

Clarke sniffled, "Do we still get to have cake?"

Bellamy laughed, "Yes, Princess, we will still have cake."

"No, I mean right now. I want cake now, chocolate with lots of icing", the blonde said, her blue eyes beseeching.

Bellamy was just about to tell her that she could have whatever she wanted because he was powerless when she looked at him like that. However, Abby answered for him.

"Certainly! Anything for you my darling", the older woman said with a chuckle before calling out to the kitchen staff, "Jacque! Chocolate cake!"

Bellamy turned back to his wife with a smile, "See, all better. Crisis averted. Now let's sit down and enjoy your cake, and then we'll go home and I'll rub your feet."

The dark haired man attempted to lead his wife back to the dining table, but found her rooted in her place. He turned back, giving her a quizzical glance.

"Bell, I've still gotta pee", Clarke said in an embarrassed whisper.

"Oh yeah, sure, Princess! You go take care of that first."

When Clarke came back, they had their chocolate cake and filled Abby in on the pregnancy. That was the warmest the couple had seen her, and both had a feeling that becoming a grandmother would be good for the elder Griffin.

Later, Clarke lay on the bed propped up on her plethora of pillows as Bellamy sat at the foot of the bed with one of her feet in his hands, his long, tapered fingers working their magic on her tired aching appendages.

"Mmm, what did I ever do to deserve you", Clarke hummed, eyes closed.

"You're amazing, sweetheart. If anyone deserves a little pampering, it's you", Bellamy said with a smile.

He watched as Clarke's eyes opened slowly, a lazy grin curving her lips.

"You're pretty amazing yourself, Detective", she purred.

"I have to be to keep up with you", Bellamy quipped.

Clarke's laughter rang out in their bedroom, warming his heart. For as long as he lived, all Bellamy Blake wanted was to make the woman he loved happy. He'd learned long ago that in her happiness he found his own, and her love was all he would ever need.

II.

Clarke sat in the den, "What to Expect When You're Expecting" lying atop her extended abdomen. In the other room she could hear Bellamy and Miller yelling at the TV, March Madness in full swing.

Each man was cheering for a different team, so discussions got pretty heated as the ball was dribbled from one end of the court to the other. She grabbed her mug of tea, Monty's concoction, bringing it to her lips.

However, before she could take a sip of the minty brew, a loud crash sounded in the living room. Clarke jumped, tea spilling down the front of the oversized NYPD sweatshirt she was wearing.

She yelped in pain, the hot liquid trickling through the thick material to bring uncomfortable warmth to her skin. The other room was suspiciously quiet, and that terrified her.

She set her book on the coffee table, waddling into the other room. She stopped short at the sight that met her eyes. Bellamy stood, head thrown back, as blood poured from his nose. Miller stood before him, turning with a terrified expression of guilt.

"What happened", Clarke shrieked as she made her way to her husband's side.

"Nothing, Princess. I'm fine", Bellamy said, his voice nasally.

"You don't look fine! Nathan Miller, what did you do?!"

Miller stared at the little blonde, unsure whether to answer or stand quietly and plead the fifth.

"It was an accident Clarke", Bellamy said.

"Yeah, an accident", Miller interjected.

The glare Clarke sent him could have curdled dairy, "I don't want to hear anything out of you Miller unless it's to tell me what happened in here.

"Bellamy sit down, and quit tilting your head back!"

When the blonde was gone from the room, Miller turned to his longtime best friend.

"Dude, she's scary!"

"Tell me about it! The UPS man nearly ran me over the other day and I thought she was going to murder him right there in our driveway. The poor man apologized profusely, but she would hear none of it. I finally had to distract her so he could escape", Bellamy answered with a chuckle.

"What's gotten into her", Miller asked, perplexed.

Suddenly, a tearful voice sounded to their left and both men turned to find a sniffling Clarke standing with ice and a towel in her grip.

The men stood, Miller shoving his hands in his pockets and Bellamy with blood still trickling from his nose.

"Am I that bad", she asked tearfully.

"No!"

"Well…", Miller said.

"Not helping, Miller", Bellamy growled.

Then Clarke broke down, burying her face in the dishtowel as noisy sobs wracked her frame.

"I'm just gonna…"

"Bye Miller", Bellamy called as his friend retreated before turning to his crying wife.

He studied her, his sweatshirt sporting a new stain, her mascara running, and her hands shaking. He went to her, taking her in his arms as he swayed back and forth.

"Shhh, it's alright", he soothed.

Clarke said something, her words muffled against his chest.

"Sorry, Princess, but I didn't quite catch that", Bellamy said softly.

He watched as she pulled back, her blue eyes twin pools of misery.

"I'm sorry", she sobbed, "I didn't mean to scare Miller and the UPS man."

Bellamy led her to the leather couch, sitting her down and then beginning the job of cleaning the blood away from his skin. He watched her as he completed his task, her eyes glued to the growing red stain on the towel.

Once he'd finished, he took his wife's hands in his own, his thumbs caressing her knuckles.

"Alright, why don't you tell me why you've been so uptight lately Princess", he said with a smile.

He watched as she heaved a sigh, her warm breath ghosting across his face.

"I can't lose you Bell", she said brokenly.

"You're not…"

"I don't want our baby to grow up without a father. I want him or her to know you. I want to watch the two of you interact, listen to you read to our little one late at night, hold both of you in my arms. I can't do this without you", Clarke ended on a sob.

Bellamy had been unprepared for his wife's open, honest declaration. He'd known that something was up, but he hadn't pressured her- thinking she'd tell him when she was ready. Now he wished he'd said something, maybe he could have eased some of her worry.

"Princess, I'm not going to tell you that nothing bad is ever going to happen. What I will tell you is that we have the here and now. Let's let the future worry about itself, and enjoy the time we've been given in this moment."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're pretty smart", Clarke said as she cuddled with him later that night.

"Hmmm, let me think", Bellamy said dramatically, "Nope not lately."

"Well you are smart, babe. You always know exactly what to say", the blonde said as her fingers drew intricate designs on her husband's chest.

"When you know someone as well as I know you, Princess, then you know what to say. With you I find I can express myself, with you I can be myself. There's no pressure to know all the answers because you know my flaws and love me anyway."

"I do love you, Detective Blake, very much", Clarke whispered.

Bellamy placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, the scent of her apple blossom shampoo assailing his senses.

"I love you too, Princess."

III.

Clarke sat with Wells in he and Melody's large backyard, the Jahas' adorable seven month old little girl playing on a blanket at the adults' feet.

"I can't believe she's gotten so big", Clarke gushed as the baby smiled prettily at her godmother.

"I know! It feels like it was only yesterday that Mel and I were where you're at", Wells replied with a smile.

"Are you two already planning on another one", the blonde asked jokingly.

"Goodness no! I didn't think I would survive this one. I love my wife, I really do, but she drove me crazy! Always asking me to rub her feet and whining about everything."

Clarke stared at her friend, her mind whirling with instances of when she'd done just that. Was she driving her husband crazy? Would he not want to have another child with her simply because she cried at the drop of a hat?

If Wells noticed the change in the woman beside him, he didn't say anything. The rest of their visit was quiet, and soon the little blonde said she needed to get home.

"Bellamy will be home soon, and I need to get started on dinner."

Clarke left the Jaha residence, mentally listing all the things she would have done by the time her husband got home. She couldn't do to him what Mel had obviously done to Wells.

The moment she got home she quickly changed from her cream sweater and khaki pants into an old pair of denim shorts and a ratted t-shirt. She slipped on her flip-flops, and gathered her cleaning supplies.

For some reason her house felt filthy, and she felt like a terrible wife. When was the last time she'd done something special for her husband? It sickened her to think that she couldn't remember.

So for the next four hours Clarke did nothing but clean. She scrubbed the bathrooms, mopped and vacuumed the floors, changed the sheets on the bed, cleaned the kitchen, emptied out the refrigerator- even though some of the smells caused her to gag, and did laundry.

By the time she'd finished the house was sparkling, and her back was killing her. She couldn't see her feet thanks to Baby Blake, but she could tell they were swelling.

Clarke decided to make lasagna for supper. Bellamy liked it and she could throw it together while sitting down. She built the Italian dish, popping it in the oven with the garlic bread, and then tossed together some lettuce with her husband's favorite vinaigrette.

With the delicious smell of her lasagna filling the house, the blonde finally decided to take a rest. She plugged in the heating pad, positioning it at the small of her back before stretching out on the couch.

She propped her feet up on two of the throw pillows, and grabbed one of the Better Home &amp; Garden magazines. She was flipping through the pages of recipes and garden plots when her eyes began to droop. The magazine soon lay forgotten on her chest, her eyes falling closed.

Bellamy unlocked his front door, stepping into the entryway with a smile. However, his relief at finally being home slowly died away as the acrid smell of smoke burned his nose.

"Clarke", he called.

When he received no answer, the man became frantic. He ran upstairs looking in every room, but still no sign of his wife. He ran around yelling her name for a good ten minutes before a disheveled blonde figure sat up on the couch with a wince.

"Bell", she said groggily.

Bellamy ran to the couch, taking his wife in his arms with a sigh of relief. Then he looked down at her to find a look of pain flicker in her blue eyes, his senses on high alert again.

"What is it? Are you alright", he asked, worry dripping from every syllable.

"I'm… What's that smell", Clarke asked, her eyes going wide.

"It doesn't matter! Are you ok, Princess?"

Suddenly Clarke gasped, her hand covering her mouth as tears sprang to her eyes. She looked at her husband, despair painting her features.

"My lasagna", she wailed.

Bellamy watched as she jumped up and ran to the kitchen, flinging open the oven and pulling out the charred remains of the lasagna and garlic bread. She just stood staring at the black, smoking piles of mush- defeat written clearly on her face.

"It's ok, babe, I'll just go to Antonio's and get takeout", Bellamy soothed.

"I'm a failure", Clarke whispered, "I'm driving you crazy and you'll never want to have another baby again!"

Bellamy stared at his wife. He should be used to Clarke's strange meltdowns, but this was one he was unprepared for. He quickly took her in his arms, holding her as she cried.

"Sweetheart, you are the furthest thing from a failure! I love you and your little pregnant quirks. Except for our wedding, the birth of our baby will be the most important day of my life. I want more kids with you, Princess, so be prepared for a houseful!"

Clarke looked up at her husband, taking in the sincerity in his dark brown eyes, and sighing in relief as she once again buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"Now, what brought this on", Bellamy asked seriously.

"I was talking to Wells, and he was saying how Melody drove him crazy throughout her pregnancy", Clarke replied quietly.

Bellamy couldn't help the growl that erupted at the back of his throat. Of course Jaha was behind this. He was going to have a serious discussion with the man later, but right now he had an emotional wife to care for.

He took Clarke back to the living room, depositing her on the couch while he opened windows so the afternoon breeze could clear their house of smoke. Then he came to sit beside her, taking her small hands in his larger ones.

"Princess, I'm not Wells. He may not like to rub his wife's feet or be the person she cries too, but that doesn't mean that I don't. I love to rub your feet, and I hate to see you cry but I always want to be the one to dry your tears. You're not driving me crazy; you're making my life worth living. I love you Clarke, and I'm not going anywhere, so whine, cry, and order me around because baby you're stuck with me", Bellamy finished with a grin.

Clarke felt a soft smile tugging at her lips, love for her husband warming her heart. She gave him a quick kiss, and then her blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

"In that case, Detective Blake. I order you to rub my back, and bring me food", she said with a giggle.

"Your wish is my command, Princess", her husband said with a dramatic bow.

Later that night, after listening to Bellamy hound her on not over doing, Clarke sat on their bed, Tony's lasagna in her lap, and Bellamy's fingers kneading the aching muscles of her back.

They were watching a History Channel special on the Battle of Thermopylae, and the blonde was enjoying the way her husband's dark eyes were glued to the screen, his love of history shining through.

"You were right, babe", she said matter of factly.

"Mmm, about what", Bellamy asked distractedly.

"You're not Wells. Because if you were then I wouldn't be able to do this", Clarke said as she turned to face her husband, and kissing him for all she was worth.

She pulled away, loving the way Bellamy's eyes darkened and how his gaze was no longer fixed on the television.

"Or this", she said as she placed a kiss against his pulse point, her hands twining in his dark curls.

Bellamy sighed, his hands moving once again to her back.

"Yeah, you should never do this to Wells, Princess", he growled.

Clarke grinned at him, thankful for the millionth time that her mother hadn't gotten her way- thankful that she got to spend the rest of her life with Bellamy Blake instead of Wells Jaha.

"No worries, my love. I'm all yours", the blonde said with a wink.

"So that's what that ring means, I was…"

Bellamy was unable to finish his sentence because his wife's lips had captured his own, and Wells Jaha was the farthest thing from both their minds.

IV.

Clarke sat beside Jasper enjoying one of her favorite sandwiches from her favorite food truck. The park was peaceful, a cool breeze ruffling the curls that framed her face.

She turned to her friend with a smile, just about to tell him she'd met the nicest girl, when she took in his pale skin and horrified expression. Then he was reaching for her sandwich, grabbing it out of her hand and throwing it in the trash.

"Jas, what was that for", Clarke growled.

"You can't eat leafy greens! That thing was piled with lettuce Clarke! Lettuce!"

"Yeah, so", the blonde said in confusion.

"Clarke, that's one of the don'ts", Jasper said in exasperation.

"The don'ts?"

"Yes, the things you shouldn't do now that you're pregnant! I'm an honorary uncle! I have to take care of this kid!"

Worry suddenly began to niggle at the back of her mind.

"What else is on that list", she asked hesitantly.

So, Clarke and Jasper spent the rest of their time together reviewing the don'ts list. By the time they were finished, the blonde was terrified.

"I took a hot shower this morning", she said, "What if it hurt the baby?"

"I'm sure one hot shower's fine", Jasper said.

"But there's been so many other things! I ate lettuce, I drank orange juice this morning, and I had queso blanco at the Mexican restaurant last night!"

"Well just don't do that anymore", Jasper reasoned, "I'm sure everything's fine. When is your next appointment?"

"Next month", Clarke said with a groan, "How am I going to make it? I don't want to worry about this for a month!"

"Well then just get Bellamy to take you tomorrow."

Clarke sighed, a little of her anxiety seeping away.

"I could do that, couldn't I?"

"Yep, and your hubby would be happy to do that for you."

Later that evening Clarke sat shivering in her tub of cold water. It had started out lukewarm, but now it was freezing. She was just about to climb out when Bellamy came sailing into the bathroom.

He bent, giving her a quick kiss and taking in her shivering form hidden beneath the mounds of bubbles. He felt her forehead, his brow wrinkling with worry.

"Are you getting sick, Princess", he asked.

"No, my bath water is cold", Clarke pouted, "Undoubtedly I'm no longer allowed to take hot baths or showers."

"Who told you that?"

"Jasper by way of the internet", Clarke answered.

She watched as Bellamy grabbed a towel from the cabinet, handing it to her as she climbed out of the tub.

"I've been doing so many things wrong, Bell! I could have hurt our child", she said with a sniff.

Bellamy stared at his wife, dripping wet and her nose beginning to run. He wrapped her in his arms, not minding that water was dripping on his dress shoes.

"Sweetheart, I think they just mean that you shouldn't take really hot showers. A warm bath is fine, ok. You keep sitting in a cold tub and you'll get sick. That really won't be good for junior!"

"We don't even know if it's a boy or a girl", Clarke protested.

"Call it father's intuition", Bellamy said with a smile, "However, more importantly, you're going to start a list of things to ask at your next appointment. This way you won't be worrying."

Clarke nodded, her tears diminishing at her husband's logic.

"Everything feels fine", she said quietly.

"Just don't stress, Princess. Stress is bad, and I don't want you all worked up", Bellamy said seriously.

The little blonde gave a sigh of relief, and then her blue gaze captured her husband's brown one.

"Alright, Mr. Blake, out you go so I can get dressed", she said with a grin.

"Awww, but I wanted to stick around. I'm a great help", he said as he nuzzled her neck.

"Nope, go order pizza. I'm starving!"

Clarke felt the rumble in Bellamy's chest as he chuckled, "Fine, if you say so."

"I say so", she said giving him a slow, languid kiss before he left.

She should have known that talking to Bellamy would settle her nerves. The man spoke her language, and had a way of putting her mind at ease. She figured he could probably write the Clarke Blake user's manual by now, and she absolutely adored him for knowing her so well.

V.

Clarke and Bellamy sat on their large leather sofa, Lincoln and O occupying the love seat not far away. They were watching some of the Blake home movies, and she was loving her husband's chubby cheeks and baby curls.

Looking at the man beside her, all brawn and muscle, no one would guess that he'd started out as a little roly-poly!

"You were so cute", Clarke exclaimed as the little tow headed Bellamy toddled across the screen.

"Were? I think I'm still pretty adorable", Bellamy said with a huff.

"You're so right, babe! You've just always been too cute for your own good", Clarke said with a chuckle.

Suddenly a man that looked to be in his early fifties came on screen, Bellamy in his arms.

"Who's that", Lincoln asked.

"That's Grandpa Joe, he was the best", Octavia said with a smile, "Bell and I spent many a summer with he and Grandma Lindy."

"What happened to them", Clarke found herself asking.

"They died just when I was sixteen", Bellamy answered, "Car wreck."

"You never spoke of them."

"We didn't get to see them after our father left. Mom didn't want us around the Blake side of the family. We didn't even get to attend the funeral."

Clarke placed a hand on her husbands knee, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"It's alright, we've all got our downs."

Suddenly the blonde realized something- something terrible.

"Bell", she said clinging to her husband's hand, "Our baby won't have a grandpa."

Bellamy turned to look at his wife, the telltale sign of a breakdown already showing on her face. He quickly captured her gaze with his own, his thumbs running over her knuckles.

"Our kid's going to have so many aunts and uncles that it's not going to miss not having grandparents. Plus Lincoln's ancient, he can step in when needed", Bellamy said with a grin.

"He's right, Clarke. O and I will love our little niece or nephew, and we'll make sure that the kid has plenty of happy memories", Lincoln said with a smile.

"Awww, that is so sweet, babe", Octavia cooed as she snuggled against her husband.

Bellamy turned back to Clarke, and away from his sister and brother-in-law's open display of affection.

"The point is, Princess, our baby will be loved and that's what's most important. No one has a perfect childhood, but I think our kid's growing up years are going to be pretty awesome."

Clarke smiled at her husband, knowing deep down that he was right. It didn't matter that their baby would have only one grandmother; there would be a plethora of aunties and uncles to make up the difference.

"What would I do without you", the blonde said as she snuggled into her husband's chest.

"You'll never have to find out", Bellamy promised, "I'm always going to be here for you Princess."

VI.

Clarke lay on the examination table, her shirt pulled up as the ultrasound technician squirted the cold gel on her abdomen. She shivered as the wand began to glide over her skin, waiting for the sound of her baby's heartbeat.

Bellamy stood beside her, his hand gripping her own. When they'd left the house that morning he'd been nothing but calm, now he buzzed with nervous energy. He rocked on the balls of his feet, the fingers of his other hand tapping against his leg.

All of the sudden a loud noise filled the room, a smile breaking out on the technician's face.

"There's the heartbeat, strong and on the slow side", the woman said as she wrote in the med file.

"Is that bad? What does that mean", Bellamy asked, his voice frantic.

"It's fine there Dad. Some people say that the heart rate is a good determiner of gender. If what they say is true, then you could be expecting a boy."

The expectant parents looked at each other, bright smiles lighting their faces.

"Now if I can direct your attention to the little spot near my cursor, I'll introduce you to your little one."

Clarke watched as Bellamy stared at the screen, his gaze softening and tears welling in his eyes before trailing down his cheeks.

"We did that", he said in awe.

"Yes we did", Clarke replied.

"It's beautiful", Bellamy breathed.

Her husband's reaction to their child was everything she'd hoped for. The awe and wonder that painted his features and colored his voice were breathtaking to behold.

On their way home, the couple was quiet- lost in thought. They'd been given a print out of their little jellybean, and already had plans to search for the perfect frame.

When they reached the house, Clarke glanced at Bellamy to find him crying. She'd never seen her husband cry until today, and the sight was heart wrenching.

"Baby, what's the matter", she asked as she placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck.

"What if I can't do this, Clarke? What if I'm a terrible dad?"

The brokenness in his voice, broke Clarke's heart. She wished she could get a hold of Bellamy's father and give him a piece of her mind for what he'd done to the wonderful man sitting beside her.

"Bell, there is no doubt in my mind that you are going to be a great father. You are kind, caring, and you love those around you with your whole heart- you don't hold back. You may not have had the best example, but babe our parents don't have to define us. I love you, and I know you. You're going to be an amazing dad", Clarke finished with a smile.

Bellamy turned to her then, his dark eyes bright with unshed tears. His hand reached for hers, his thumb caressing her wedding ring.

"I love you, Princess. You're going to be the best mom."

"I love you too, Bell", Clarke said giving him a quick kiss, "And we're going to be the best parents this kid has ever seen!"

**Thanks for reading! Please review! :)**

**Wright: Thank you so much for your reviews! I promise I haven't completely abandoned Abiding Love, I just don't have the time to devote to it. It takes more thought and planning than a little one-shot, and these things help keep the old noggin tuned and ready to go lol I'm so glad you've enjoyed my little rambles! :)**


	5. Little Moments

**Thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and favs guys! You're the best! I had so much fun writing this. I got the inspiration from a song I heard on the radio the other day called "Little Moments" by Brad Paisley. If you get a chance, give it a listen. It's an amazingly sweet song! Enjoy! :)**

Little Moments

I.

Bellamy stood out in the front yard, green hose in hand as he watered his wife's roses. It was a hot July day, and he had the day off from the precinct with no intention of going anywhere.

He was enjoying his denim shorts and sandals, the sun beating down on his bare back. His sunglasses shaded his eyes, and his ball cap was turned around backwards in a display of quiet rebellion.

It had been a long week, and he was thankful his weekend had finally arrived. He turned when he heard the screen door shut on the house, his favorite person in the whole world walking out into the summer sun.

Her fair skin was a little pink from their time at the lake the previous afternoon, and her blonde curls were pulled into a messy bun atop her head. The blue tank and denim shorts fit her perfectly, and her bright red toenails peaked out from her sandals.

Clarke waved at her husband, enjoying the view as his tan skin glistened in the summer heat. She watched as one of the neighborhood women strolled by, the middle-aged mother of three glancing at Bellamy three times as her pace slowed.

"Good morning, Mrs. Anderson", Clarke called.

She watched as the woman waved, ducking her head and rushing passed their house. She then turned to find her husband grinning from ear to ear, his male ego inflating by the moment.

"What was that, Princess", he asked with mock curiosity.

"That was the neighborhood bitty eyeballing my man", Clarke said as she wrapped her arms around her husband's trim waist, going up on tiptoe to kiss the smirk from his lips.

"Mmm, the neighborhood should ogle more often", Bellamy said as his wife ended their heated kiss.

"Not unless you want to haul me in for all of the catfights that will ensue", Clarke said dryly.

Bellamy laughed at this. His wife wasn't really the jealous type, but she didn't share- with anyone. As far as she was concerned, he was hers and no one else could have him. He was just fine with this because no one could fan his fires like Clarke Griffin-Blake.

"What are you up to", he asked as he stared down at his little blonde firecracker.

"I need to run to the store. I'm out of titanium white."

"We can't have that", Bellamy chuckled.

"My car is in the shop", Clarke reminded her husband, "So, I need your keys."

Bellamy stared at his wife, groaning internally as he remembered that her little Nissan was indeed in the shop. He dug into his pocket, pulling out the keys to his beloved 2014 Chevy Silverado before placing them into his wife's open palm.

"Thanks, babe", Clarke said with a grin.

Bellamy watched as she sashayed to his truck, her hips swaying to the beat of the song she was humming off key. He grinned turning back to the roses. He heard the truck start, knowing she was probably rolling all the windows down and finding her desired radio station before pulling out of their drive.

He had just turned the water off and was rolling up the hose when he heard a loud crunch. He turned in enough time to see the truck rock from the impact with their bricked mailbox.

Then he heard something he thought he would never hear. A loud curse echoed from the cab of the truck, pulling his gaze to where his wife now sat red faced with her hand over her mouth.

Her eyes were wide, and refused to meet his. He should have been made at her, but she looked so cute he just couldn't bring himself to be angry.

He watched as her hand lowered, her sunburned skin three shades redder thanks to the charming blush staining her cheeks.

"I'm sorry", she yelled, turning off the engine and coming round to inspect the damage.

Clarke grimaced when she saw the crinkle in the truck's bumper, some of the bricks crumbling to the grass below. She felt her husband's presence beside her, and she turned to look at him expecting to see anger darkening his features.

Instead he wore a smile, brilliant and shining. She stared at him, hoping she hadn't driven him over the edge to insanity.

"Well, I didn't like that bumper anyway."

Clarke felt her eyes widen once again, and then her husband was laughing. His deep chuckles were contagious, and soon she was giggling right along with him.

He took the truck to Raven the very next day, and their family mechanic quickly assured him that it was fixable. When asked what had happened, Bellamy smiled and glanced at his wife in their borrowed SUV.

"Oh it was just one of those things."

"Clarke backed into the mailbox again, didn't she", Raven said with a grimace.

Bellamy grinned, "Yep."

"You were watering the roses again, weren't you", Wick said coming in with lunch for his wife.

Bellamy laughed this time, "Yeah, I was."

Just then Clarke stuck her head out of the Suburban's window, "I can hear you! I'm clumsy, not deaf!"

"Well, the Princess awaits", Bellamy said dramatically.

"You know you love it", Wick smiled.

"I wouldn't trade that little klutz for anything", the dark haired man said with a laugh as he walked out of the shop.

II.

It was January and bitterly cold. Clarke finished mixing the batter for her husband's favorite chocolate cake, pouring it into a pan and popping it in the oven. She the grabbed her phone off of the counter and quickly dialed Octavia's number.

"Hey, O. Can you have everyone here by six? Bell should be home by six-thirty, so that should give us time to get set up."

"Sure, that'll work", Octavia answered.

"Great, see you in…", Clarke quickly checked her watch, "thirty minutes."

After hanging up with her sister-in-law, Clarke quickly rushed upstairs to pick out a dress and fix her hair and makeup. She chose a dark green number with her favorite pair of silver pumps.

She'd just put the finishing touches on her cherry lipstick when the doorbell rang. The blonde sprinted barefoot down the stairs and yanked open the door to reveal O and Lincoln standing on her front porch.

"Come in", she welcomed ushering them inside, "Where's everyone else?"

"They should be here in about ten minutes", Lincoln answered.

"Good, I want everyone hidden when Bell get's home", Clarke gushed.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, the gang had all arrived. The little blonde hostess rushed around making sure everyone had a glass of punch, and that they each knew where their assigned hiding place was.

Finally the moment had arrived. Clarke heard Bellamy's truck pull up into the drive, the door slam, and the jangle as he worked to get the key into the lock.

"Quiet everyone", she whispered.

Bellamy unlocked the front door, one hand reaching to loosen his tie as he stepped into the entryway. The house was fairly dim, which he found slightly unusual, but his wife had been acting weird all week so he wasn't surprised.

Just as he stepped into the living room, a strange odor assaulted his senses. He crinkled his nose, and then realization dawned.

"Clarke", he yelled.

Just then a blonde head bounced into view, her bare feet skidding on their hardwood floor as she flew to the kitchen. He followed in her wake, listening as she began to talk to the oven.

"Please don't be burned! Please don't be burned", she chanted over and over again.

"What are you…"

"Surprise!"

Bellamy jumped, pulling the pistol from the holster at his hip and watching as the mob hit the floor.

"Don't shoot", Jasper yelled, "We'll never surprise you again."

Bellamy turned to stare at his wife, taking in her defeated expression as she stared at the burnt mass that looked like it had once been a cake. Then, to his mortification, she burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry", she hiccupped, "I ruined your birthday!"

The dark haired detective quickly moved forward and took his wife in his arms. He had to fight back a chuckle, their friends still lying on the floor and his birthday cake smoking on the stove.

"Well, Princess, you accomplished one thing", he said with a grin.

He felt her pull back, her liquid blue eyes staring up at him hopefully.

"What's that?"

"This is definitely a birthday I'll never forget!"

Everyone laughed at this, including the teary blonde in his arms. After everyone had risen from the floor, and the cake had been thrown away, pan and all, they all filed out of the house.

Later, as Bellamy sat beside Clarke holding her hand as they shared a chocolate mousse at their favorite Italian restaurant, he couldn't help but chuckle.

Only his wife could burn the cake, and make their house look like a hostile takeover! He loved her though; gosh did he ever love her. She brightened his days, and never ceased to amaze him.

He brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back. He grinned as she swung to face him.

"What was that for", she asked with a smile.

"Thanks for granting my birthday wish, Princess", he said with a grin, "All I wanted was you and some chocolate mousse from Antonio's and I got both."

He watched as a small smile curved his wife's gorgeous mouth.

"Have I told you lately that I love you, Blake?"

"Not today, no…"

"Well, I love you", Clarke whispered right before she kissed him.

Bellamy smiled when she pulled away, her attention stolen by Murphy's terrible joke. As he stared at his beautiful wife, her hand still clasping his own, all the young detective could think was, "Best birthday ever!"

III.

Clarke sat in the passenger seat of her husband's truck, scanning the map that blanketed her lap. The lines all began to run together, but she pressed on, giving Bellamy directions for their next turn off.

They'd made an impromptu decision three days ago to go on a day trip to D.C. Bellamy loved the history, and Clarke loved the shopping so it was a win-win for both of them.

"Take the next exit", Clarke said.

She was very proud of her navigating skills until suddenly they found themselves in a sketchy neighborhood. She was even sure she saw a guy walking around with a baseball bat.

"Is your door locked", Bellamy ground out.

"Yeah", Clarke squeaked.

"Good. If anything happens, don't you dare leave this truck Clarke Abigail Blake."

Clarke shuddered at her husband's dark tone, cringing when a dented stop sign came into view. She scrunched down in her seat, her fingers squeezing Bellamy's in a death grip.

She gave a little sigh of relief when they pulled through the intersection without incident. She felt ten times better when the houses finally began to look less like gang hangouts and more like family homes.

Finally Bellamy pulled in at a gas station and took the folded map from her hands. She watched as his dark eyes flicked back and forth, and then cast a sideways glance her way.

"You did good, sweetheart", was all he said before he pulled back onto the busy street.

Thirty minutes later they'd made it to their destination. Clarke remained seated as she watched her husband climb out of the driver's seat and march around to the passenger side.

Bellamy opened the door, doing his best to keep his smile at bay. He watched as Clarke spun to face him, her expression contrite and her blue eyes sorrowful.

"I'm sorry, Bell", she said quietly.

Bellamy smiled, leaning in the space between her knees and wrapping his arms around her waist. He looked up at her, letting his adoration for her shine in his deep brown eyes.

"You got a little turned around. It could happen to anyone", he said with a shrug.

"Yeah, but not anyone would nearly get us stranded in gang nation!"

Bellamy laughed. He loved it when she was stirred up, her voice raising an octave and her blue eyes widening to the point he was sure the cerulean orbs would pop from her head.

"You keep life interesting, Princess", he grinned as he helped her from the truck.

"Poor thing, you're life is just too interesting", the blonde grumbled.

"I like it that way", Bellamy declared, entwining his fingers with hers.

"You're a saint, Bellamy Blake", Clarke said dryly.

The man laughed at that, staring down at the petite woman at his side. No, he was no saint, just a man deeply in love with the woman of his dreams.

IV.

Bellamy was sitting on the couch watching the Braves play, when his wife plopped down beside him. He listed to her huff, each sigh becoming more dramatic until he turned to stare at her one dark brow quirked in question.

"Nothing", the blonde said crossing her arms over her chest.

Bellamy shrugged and went back to the game, trying to ignore the little noises of annoyance coming from his soul mate. Finally he could take no more.

"Alright, Princess, spill it", he ordered.

"Well, it's just that The Proposal is on", she said quietly.

Bellamy kept his gaze trained on the baseball game, knowing that if he looked at her he would be changing the channel. He lost that internal battle, turning to gaze into his wife's pretty blue eyes.

With a groan he grabbed the remote from the coffee table and handed it to her. Her smile was enough to chase away his regret at missing the game, and contentment quickly set in when she snuggled against his side.

Soon they were both stretched out, Clarke's head resting on Bellamy's arm while his other appendage was wrapped around her waist. About halfway through the movie, the dark haired man heard his partner's quiet snores.

He smiled as he remembered all the times his wife denied the fact that she did in fact snore. He just tugged her closer, loving the way their bodies molded perfectly.

Soon, his arm began to fall asleep. Tingling raced up his arm, numbing to the point that he couldn't feel his fingers. He contemplated waking her, but the sight of his sleeping beauty stopped him.

This happened every time they lay down to watch a movie- Clarke always fell asleep. She'd bee fine through the first half, but the minute they crossed into the second half she was out like a light.

Soon the credits were rolling across the screen, and Bellamy was longing for the comfort of their bed. The old couch was comfortable, but there were a few springs that tended to poke him in the back after a while.

He gently raised the sleeping woman up, tugging his arm from its prison beneath her head. He climbed over the back of the couch, slinging his tingling arm around to encourage blood flow.

When the feeling had finally returned to his fingers, Bellamy turned back to his snoring wife. He smiled down at her as he gently took her in his arms. He felt her snuggle against him, murmuring incoherently.

He climbed the stairs, thankful not for the first time that Clarke was such a small woman. When he finally reached their bedroom, he changed her into one of his t-shirts.

Bellamy was amazed that after all these years she still slept so hard and so soundly. After Clarke was out, there was nothing short of a fire that would wake her. He quickly changed into a pair of gym shorts, and then fell into bed beside her.

He wasn't surprised in the least when she was suddenly snuggled against him. After three years of marriage, Clarke had finding his body heat in her sleep down to an art.

He held her close, studying her features in the dark. She was beautiful, the most beautiful person he'd ever known. However, she was far from perfect. He didn't know how many times she'd nearly burned the house down with the curling iron, or how many sets of drapes she'd sucked up in the vacuum cleaner.

All he knew for sure was that he loved the little bundle of chaos in his arms. She made his dark days brighter, and she was the one person he wanted to be near no matter what his mood. Even when he was angry with her, he couldn't bear to be away from her.

So, as Bellamy Blake fell asleep, he was thankful for his wife's little imperfections- for those little moments that he would remember for the rest of his life.

**Thanks for reading! Please review, and let me know what you thought! :)**


	6. My Eyes Adored You

**Here's yet another ramble! Enjoy guys! :)**

#6

Clarke sat at the old wooden kitchen table in the Blake house. She'd had another fight with her mother, and this was the only place she could find solace. It felt like her life was falling apart, and the only thing that could keep her together didn't even acknowledge her existence.

Bellamy Blake stood at the stove, his white t-shirt a bright contrast to his dark sweatpants. His dark curls were in disarray and dark smudges rested beneath his eyes. The reason lay in his bed upstairs, Roma.

The blonde wanted to hate the dark haired beauty for stealing Bellamy's attention, but if she made him happy the Clarke couldn't really find fault in it. She loved her best friend's older brother, and all she'd ever wanted was his happiness.

"You ok, Princess?"

Clarke's head snapped up, squeaking when her neck wrenched painfully. She'd awakened to a terrible crick after sleeping on the couch, and any movement sent needles of pain down her spine.

She winced, one hand moving to the source of the pain, "Yeah, Bell, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. Are you getting another migraine", he asked, concern dripping from every syllable.

"No, I've got a crick in my neck", she explained.

Before she could move or protest Bellamy was behind her. His nimble fingers began to work on the taut muscles, and she relaxed beneath his touch.

"You're sure you're not getting a migraine? You know stress…"

"Yes, mother hen, I know stress causes them", Clarke said in annoyance.

"If you feel one coming one, take something", Bellamy said as he made his way back to the stove.

Ten minutes later, Octavia snuck passed the doorway, a finger to her lips as she begged her friend to stay quiet. Undoubtedly she was sneaking out this morning to meet Lincoln.

Clarke coughed loudly to cover up the quiet thud of the front door, earning a questioning glance from the dark haired man flipping pancakes.

"O just snuck out didn't she", he growled.

"Yep."

"She always things she's being sneaky", Bellamy said with a humorless chuckle, "I'll deal with that when she gets home."

Clarke remained quiet, sipping her orange juice as she contemplated the man whose cologne was making her dizzy. She'd always loved it, had always loved him. Even through his pigheadedness and sarcasm.

However, at the age of twenty, she'd come to find that Bellamy Blake would never love her back. She'd had the revelation one night a few months ago, and the memory still hurt.

_Clarke stuck the key into the lock of the ancient wooden door, the green paint peeling and the brass long tarnished. It creaked loudly as it swung open, the sound echoing in the quiet of the house._

_ She'd had another fight with her mother, and staying in that house had been unbearable, so she escaped here. She'd always felt welcome, and the day in tenth grade when O had gifted her a key to the house had been one of the most memorable days of her life._

_ She took off her coat, hanging it on the coat rack Bellamy had built in shop his junior year. The place was full of memories of her childhood, pictures of she and Octavia running through the sprinklers, the baseball Bell had hit her with the summer he turned fourteen, and last but not least her first portrait- a charcoal drawing of Aurora she'd done in sixth grade._

_ Mrs. Blake, at times, had been more of a mother to her than her own had. She'd taken care of her when Dr. Griffin had late night surgeries, or long days at the hospital. She always treated the little blonde like one of her own, and Clarke had mourned right along the Blake siblings when their mother died four years ago._

_ Clarke made her way down the hall, peeking into the living room when she saw that the television was on. She saw Bellamy's dark curls, and the dark head of his current girlfriend where it lay on his chest._

_ "Hey Princess", he called in a noisy whisper, "I washed your sheets."_

_ Clarke nodded in thanks, realizing that this was the fourth night she'd come dragging in so late. It was just easier here, safer here._

_ She trudged up the stairs, and then it hit her. She would never be the girl with her head on his chest. She would always be the little sister he cooked for, and whose sheets he washed._

_ It hurt to think that what she'd wanted so badly would never come to pass- that he would never see her as anything more than his little sister's best friend. She pushed the thought aside, telling herself that being close to him in any respect would be enough._

Clarke was pulled from her musings when Roma's loud, obnoxious voice rang out in the kitchen. The dull pounding that always accompanied one of her migraines began at her forehead, but she fought to ignore it.

"Morning, babe", Roma said as she kissed Bellamy nice and slow.

Clarke just wanted to escape, wanted to be anywhere but here. She averted her eyes, instead staring morosely into her orange juice as if it held the secret of life, and fighting the urge to cover her ears to muffle the sound of Roma's voice.

"Good morning, Princess", Roma said with a leering smile.

"Morning", Clarke replied.

"You always lurk in the kitchen watching Bell cook?"

The blonde chanced a glance in Bellamy's direction, seeing the way his movement stilled and he seemed to wait for her answer.

"I wouldn't call it lurking exactly", Clarke answered.

Roma laughed, and the sound only intensified the pounding.

Then Clarke felt it, the dizziness the came before some of her more severe migraines. She stood, her hand on the nearby counter for support. She would never make it upstairs, let alone to the couch at this rate.

She watched as Bellamy turned to stare at her, a question lurking in his dark eyes. She gripped the granite edge, her fingers turning white.

"You ok", he asked quietly.

Clarke was just about to tell him no, when Roma piped up.

"Princess is fine, babe. I, on the other hand, am starving", she said with a bright smile.

Bellamy stared between the two women, his gaze settling on Clarke.

"Princess?"

"I'm fine, Bell, just a little tired", Clarke answered with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

She stood there a moment longer, watching as he heaped a plate with pancakes before setting it before Roma. The other girl stared at her over his shoulder before pulling him in for a kiss.

Clarke didn't even know she was falling until her body collided with the cold tile floor. She lay there, disoriented, for a moment before she was being helped to her feet.

"Clarke… Clarke, are you alright", Bellamy asked in concern.

"No", the blonde answered weakly.

"Ok", Bellamy answered.

He gently picked her up, carrying her upstairs and depositing her in her bed. He quickly closed the blinds, and pulled the blackout curtains closed so the room was nearly completely dark.

"Do you feel nauseous yet", he asked her quickly.

"No", she croaked.

"Alright, I'll be right back. Don't get up for anything. If you get sick, I'll just clean it up."

Bellamy went downstairs, skidding to a halt in the kitchen.

"Have you seen my phone", he asked Roma.

"Nope", she said as she took another bite of her breakfast.

"Would you mind helping me look?"

"I'm eating", she whined, "I'm sure Princess is just fine."

Upon hearing the spiteful way Roma used his nickname for Clarke, Bellamy had had enough.

"You don't like her do you", he asked.

"Who, Clarke? No I don't."

"Why?"

"Oh come on, Bellamy. Surely you've seen it", Roma said in exasperation.

"Seen what?"

"She's in love with you", Roma laughed, "As if she has a chance."

Bellamy stared at his girlfriend, disbelief ringing in his ears. He thought back to all the times he'd caught Clarke staring at him, all the times she'd been there for he and O.

"If anyone doesn't have a chance, it's you", he said harshly, "We're through Roma."

He grabbed her plate and tossed it into the sink before heading back upstairs. He heard the front door slam five minutes later as he picked up his phone. He dialed O's number, thankful she picked up after the second ring.

"O, you need to come home", he said quickly.

"What, why, what's wrong", Octavia asked over the speaker.

"Clarke, it's a bad one this time", he said.

"Alright, I'll be home in thirty minutes."

After Bellamy hung up, he quickly made his way to Clarke's room. She lay still, tears wetting her cheeks. He could tell that the pain had finally hit, her hands fisting in the sheets.

He hated to watch her in pain, and he always felt so helpless. He'd seen her like this more times than he could count, and it never got any easier.

Finally, he could take no more. He went to the bathroom and wet a cloth in cold water. When he came back, he sat down on the other side of the bed and reached for Clarke.

She whimpered at the movement, but he soon had her settled on the pillow he'd placed in his lap. He placed the cloth over her eyes, smiling as she gave a little sigh. He then began to gently massage the back of her head, his fingers gliding through her silky blond tresses.

Soon she relaxed, her body going slack and her breathing deepening. That's how Octavia found them when she got home, Clarke sound asleep and Bellamy still running his fingers through her hair.

"Where's Roma", his sister asked quietly.

"Gone", Bellamy answered simply.

Clarke woke hours later, groggy but pain free. She padded down to the kitchen for a bottle of water and some string cheese. She had just opened the fridge, digging around in one of the drawers for the mozzarella cheese, when she felt a presence behind her.

She grabbed her cheese, shutting the door with a whoosh before turning around to face Bellamy. Upon seeing him her scalp tingled where his fingers run through her hair. Never had she been so relaxed in her life, and it was embarrassing.

"Hey", she said, her voice an octave higher than normal.

"Hey", Bellamy answered, his dark eyes glued to her face.

"Where's Roma? I thought you had a date tonight", the blonde asked as she ripped open the cheese, taking a bite as she waited for his answer.

"We broke up this morning."

Clarke nearly choked. She couldn't believe her ears. She coughed and spluttered, finally swallowing the food to stare at him in astonishment.

"Why", she asked.

She watched as Bellamy leaned back against the counter, his brown eyes warm and a small smile curving his lips. He looked too good to be true in his black mesh shorts and his grey t-shirt, a sweat stain running down the center of his chest telling her he'd just gotten back from a run.

His voice pulled her from her quiet appraisal, the sound rumbling in her ears.

"Roma said something very interesting", he replied to her earlier question.

"Oh yeah, what was that", the blonde asked trying to play it cool, but not daring to take another bite of her cheese stick.

"She said you were in love with me."

Clarke stared at him, the heat of a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Is it true", Bellamy asked, taking a step closer.

"I, uh, I…Well, ummm", Clarke stammered before trailing off.

Bellamy grinned, the blush climbing higher up the blonde's neck to settle on her cheeks.

"I'll take that as a yes", he whispered as he leaned in closer.

Clarke's eyes widened, and then closed as his lips settled on hers in a gentle caress. She found herself dropping the cheese stick all together, and twining her hands in his hair. They fit together perfectly, a wonderful combination of muscle and curves.

When they finally pulled apart, Bellamy was smiling.

"That's why Roma and I broke up, Princess. Hearing her say that you loved me, made me realize I love you too."

Clarke gasped, trying to back away.

"No, you were happy with her", she said quickly.

"No, I thought I was happy. Princess, you are the one woman who's been with me through my darkest days, felt the heat of my temper, seen my bed head, and you're affection has never wavered. You've been my friend, my support, and my biggest fan. I love you Clarke, and I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to realize it", he finished softly.

Clarke could only stare for a moment, his words slowly sinking in. Then she was in his arms again, only this time she was the initiator.

"I never thought I'd hear you say those words, and I wanted to hear them so badly", she whispered.

"Well I'm saying them now, and I'm going to keep saying them", Bellamy said as he pulled her closer.

When they shared their news with Octavia and Lincoln that night the other couple simply shared a grin before shouting in unison, "Finally!"

"That obvious huh", Bellamy asked his sister.

"Come on Bell. You dumped Fox because she said Clarke was over here too much; Echo because she tried to set Clarke up with some crazy dude, and now Roma. I think you're previous actions speak for themselves", O said with a smirk.

Bellamy looked at Clarke sheepishly, "And she didn't mention all the others I dumped for similar reasons."

Clarke grinned, taking Bellamy's hand in her own and placing a kiss on the palm. She finally got to be the girl with her head on his chest, the girl who shared his kisses.

"I love you Bellamy", she said, thrilling that she finally got to admit it.

"I love you too, Princess", he replied, his lips meeting her own and his hands framing her face.

Clarke had secretly loved Bellamy for what felt like her whole life, and now she could shout it from the rooftops. Something Bellamy did 249 days later when proposed.

**Thanks for reading! Please review! I'll also take any prompts you might want to throw my way! :)**


	7. Valentines Day

#7

Clarke smiled at Finn across their table. The music was loud and their food had yet to arrive, but she was convinced it was perfect. She really didn't like the club scene, but her wonderful fiancé had picked it, so she was determined to enjoy herself.

"Let's dance", she yelled, raising her voice to be heard over the music.

Finn smiled, taking her hand and leading her out onto the dance floor. They were just about to come together when a young waitress bumped into Clarke, sloshing one of the drinks onto her favorite black dress.

"I'm so sorry", the girl said, "It's so crazy in here tonight, and I'm…"

"It's fine", Clarke smiled, "No harm done."

"I'm sorry, Princess. I know how much you liked that dress", Finn said apologetically.

"I'll live. I've got a great drycleaner", the blonde said with a smile, "However, I should probably go get this cleaned up."

She made her way through the throng of people to the dark hallway, stopping before a crudely written sign that said restroom. Great, she thought as she stepped into the gross little nook letting the door shut behind her.

The half used roll of paper towels sat on the edge of the grungy sink, and she tore off a few to dab at the dark wet spot on her bodice. When she was satisfied that she'd done all she could, she checked her reflection in the cracked mirror before turning to leave.

As her hand reached for the doorknob, she discovered a problem. The handle was gone, and she was stuck. She scrambled for her phone in her clutch, groaning when she remembered that she'd left it on the table.

Clarke growled in frustration as she began to yell embarrassingly for someone to let her out of the nasty restroom. It soon became apparent that the music was much too loud, and that no one would hear her.

She turned to the toilet with a grimace, dropping the cover with her foot and then covering it with a layer of paper towels before taking a seat. She gave a huff, her chin dropping to her hand as she sat to wait for a rescue.

Bellamy stared at the redhead across from him. She was pretty and mildly intelligent, but her laugh had to be the most annoying thing he'd ever heard. After hearing her snorting cackle for the tenth time in five minutes, he was ready to escape.

"I'm gonna find the john", he said as he stood.

"Ok, hurry back", Jen purred.

Bellamy grimaced as he fought through the crowd to the peaceful quiet near the restrooms. As he reached for the handle, he hoped he'd find an unbarred window on the other side because he couldn't take another hour of Jen's screeching outbursts of mirth.

He found the door unlocked, pushing it open and letting it slam behind him. Just as it clicked shut, a woman stood from her seat on the commode.

"No", she yelled.

"I'm sorry, miss. I… Clarke", he said as he recognized the petite blonde before him.

"Bellamy Blake! I should have known! And I thought this couldn't get any worse", she rambled as she began to pace.

"What's going on? What are you doing in here, Princess", he asked, letting his old nickname for her slip.

"Don't you dare call me that Blake! You lost that right eight years ago when you dumped me for Ms. Tall-Blonde-And-Stupid", Clarke seethed.

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry! What are you doing in here Clarke", he asked putting heavy emphasis on her name, "Is that better?"

"Well for your information Bellamy, we are now both stuck in this crummy little bathroom thanks to you!"

"Me, what did I do? We can just…", Bellamy said as he reached for the knob only to find it missing.

"We can just what, Bellamy? Teleport out of here", the little blonde hissed.

"We could try yelling for help", he offered only to receive a glare from the tiny woman, "Or not…"

"We're just going to have to endure one another's company until someone else comes along to let us out."

Bellamy watched as she once again took her seat atop the little pile of rough brown paper, her posture that of a composed socialite at an afternoon tea instead of a frazzled blonde sitting on a filthy toilet.

He grinned, doing his best to hide his smirk as he leaned against the rickety vanity. His gaze traveled over her, taking in her red kitten heels, the soft skin of legs, the black dress with a drying stain that hugged her every curve, the adorable pout of her pink lips, and the way her blonde curls shone in the drab florescent lighting. She was still just as beautiful as ever.

"So, Clarke", he began, the sound of his voice drawing her blue eyes to his face, "Who're you here with?"

"My fiancé", she replied with a tilt of her chin.

Bellamy felt like all of the air had just been knocked out of him.

"Lucky guy", he said snidely, trying to cover up the way her news affected him.

"Yep he sure is", Clarke said with a little snarl, "So, who are you here with Casanova?"

"Girlfriend of two years", Bellamy lied.

He didn't want her to know that he hadn't had a stable relationship since they'd broke it off his senior year. He watched as something akin to jealously flickered in her blue gaze, and he was shocked to find that he could still read her like a book.

"I'm happy for you", she said with a smile as fake as his date's auburn locks.

"When's the big day", Bellamy found himself asking after a long silence.

"Three months", Clarke replied, her enthusiasm waning.

"You don't sound excited. Shouldn't you be glowing or something", he asked.

The blonde sighed, one hand running through her curls before her gaze rose to meet his.

"I don't know, he's just been so distant lately. I'll admit I was a little disappointed when brought me here tonight because…"

"Clubs aren't your thing", Bellamy supplied.

Clarke stared at him dumfounded, her heart pounding at the realization that he still, after all these years, knew her better than anyone else. She watched as a blush crept up his neck, and he began to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

"I just remember because you don't like loud music", he stammered, and the blonde felt her heart soften.

"That's right, I don't like loud music."

His gaze soon traveled to her face, the way his brown eyes darkened making her breath catch. He still did funny things to her heart, and she was having a hard time ignoring the gravitational pull he'd always had on her.

Clarke found herself standing on shaky legs, drawing nearer to where Bellamy leaned haphazardly against the sink. His black shirt clung to him like a second skin, and his messy curls called for her touch.

She came closer, observing how his gaze dropped to her lips and then flickered back up to her eyes. Before she could stop herself, she reached out and laid a hand against his cheek.

Bellamy moved, dragging her to him and capturing her lips with his own. Her hands wandered up his back, her fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. They were totally in sync, just like they'd been all those years ago. Each moving in a sort of dance that only they knew by heart.

Suddenly a loud thud sounded on the door and they broke apart. They stood staring at each other for a moment, eyes wide and lips swollen. Then a voice sounded, and Clarke's attention was snapped to the door.

"Why did you come here", Finn asked breathlessly, "My girlfriend could spot us at any moment."

A feminine voice purred, "I had to see you. I love you Finn."

Clarke gasped, her world shattering at her fiancé's reply.

"I love you too, Raven, but you can't be here", Finn said in a hushed tone.

The blonde felt as though every bit of oxygen had been sucked from the room, tears gathering in her eyes. Then, just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, the door swung open to reveal a middle aged man and next to him- Finn and his lover.

"Finn! What is this all about", Clarke asked her eyes begging him to tell her this was all a dream.

Finn sighed, looking behind the woman he was to marry at the dark haired man that hovered over her shoulder.

"Bellamy! What's he doing here", Finn asked.

"That's not important. Who is she Finn? How long have you been cheating on me", Clarke demanded.

Finn had the decency to look ashamed, "Since the night of our engagement party."

Clarke staggered back, colliding with Bellamy's chest as a sob tore from her throat. She yanked the ring off of her finger, throwing it at her fiancé, "We're through! I don't ever want to see, or hear from you again, got it!"

"Wait, Clarke…", Finn called after her, but he was halted from following when a hand took hold of his collar.

"How could you do this to her", Bellamy seethed, "She loved you, and you betrayed her!"

"Looks like she did a little betraying of her own, if that lipstick smeared all over your mouth is any indication", Finn sneered.

He soon found out that that was the wrong thing to say as Bellamy's fist rammed into his nose, a sickening crunch sounding before blood began to pour down his lip.

"Never contact her, or a broken nose will be the least of your worries."

Bellamy left the couple standing by the dirty bathroom in the dark hallway, his gaze scanning the crowd for a glimpse of blonde hair. A hand on his arm drew his attention, the face of his very unhappy date coming into view.

"Were you trying to bail on me", she shrieked.

"Yes, I was. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go", Bellamy said, jerking his arm from her hold.

He ran outside, rain wetting his hair and running down his face. He looked frantically up and down the sidewalk until he finally spotted her standing under a streetlamp.

Clarke sobbed into her hands, her clothes drenched and her mascara running. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to find Bellamy standing beside her.

"What do you want", she rasped.

"I'm so sorry, Clarke. You didn't deserve what that jerk did to you", he said quietly.

A mirthless laugh escaped her lips, "Why is it that no man wants me? Am I not good enough", she asked, her voice breaking on a sob.

Bellamy pulled her to him, knowing it was time to come clean. He waited until her arms had come around him, and then he began to speak.

"You remember the night of my senior prom when you caught me with Brittany Smallwood?"

"How could I forget", Clarke said miserably.

"Well, it wasn't what you thought. Yeah, we kissed but she'd been the one to initiate. I was just getting her off of me when you happened by."

"Why would you let me believe that you'd been unfaithful", the blonde asked as she stared up at him, her blue eyes filled with confusion.

"I didn't think I deserved you, Princess. I thought you would be better off without a bum who didn't know what to do with his life", Bellamy admitted.

"You were young, sweetheart, we could have figured things out together", Clarke said, allowing her own endearment to slip.

"I know, but I was scared. So, I let you believe that I'd cheated so you'd move on."

Clarke studied his features, his strong jaw, and the smattering of freckles that dotted his cheeks, those old feelings for him slamming into her with surprising force.

"What about you, Bell, did you move one", she asked softly.

"No. The girlfriend was a lie. O will tell you that I have a string of one nightstands that would reach from here to Timbuktu", he said with a sigh.

Clarke smiled, tugging him closer and twining her fingers in his curls.

"Wanna move on together", she whispered.

Her only answer was a searing kiss that made her forget all about Finn Collins, and his treachery. Instead, she was taken back to the happiest time of her life- the moment she kissed Bellamy Blake for the first time.

_One Year Later…_

Bellamy sat across from his girlfriend of 365 days, a smile on his face as he listened to her tell about the little kids in her art class. Her blue eyes were bright, her grin infectious, and her hands waved animatedly as she spoke of the little boy who'd decided to paint his neighbor's face instead of the paper before him.

"You should have seen this kid, babe! His face was splattered with red paint, and I just knew his mother would have my job", she said with a chuckle.

"Sounds like you had an interesting day", he replied with a grin.

"Yes, and I am starving, but I've got to go to the little girl's room really quick. Did you see a sign for the bathroom anywhere?"

Bellamy immediately grabbed her hand, "You can't go!"

"What do you mean I can't go", Clarke asked in confusion.

"Not before I ask you something. I know what happens when you go to the restroom, and your liable not to make it back", he said slyly.

"That was one time, Bell. Honestly, I…"

Clarke's words trailed off as she watched her boyfriend get down on one knee, taking her hand in his own. He pulled a black velvet box out of his coat pocket with the other, flipping it open to reveal a gorgeous princess cut diamond.

"From the day I met you when I was sixteen, I knew that I would love you for an eternity. Losing you was the most painful thing I've ever had to endure, and I never want to be parted from you again. So, before you run off and get locked in the bathroom with any more exes, I'm staking my claim. Clarke Griffin, will you marry me?"

The blonde sat in stunned silence for half a second before she nodded, tears welling in her eyes as the love of her life slipped that beautiful ring on her finger. She didn't give him time to stand; instead she dove forward and kissed him for all she was worth.

As she pulled away, the cheering around them fading as she looked into Bellamy's warm brown eyes, she was thankful for that tiny icky bathroom because there she'd found the man she'd always loved, and it'd kept her from making the biggest mistake of her life.

"I love you, Bellamy Blake, and there is no one I'd rather be stuck with for the rest of my life."


	8. Proposal

**Thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and faves! Atheandra here is your nervous Bellamy proposal! Hope you like it! Enjoy! :)**

**#8**

Bellamy walked out of the jewelry store, his hands in his pockets. One hand fiddled with his car keys, while the other caressed the velvet ring box containing the gorgeous princess cut diamond he'd picked out three weeks ago.

He'd been planning on popping the question for the past two months, but he'd had a time finding the perfect ring. Octavia even told him he being too picky, but he'd just told her that he was being selective.

Then he walked into the little jewelry store on 5th, the elderly man smiling at him as he puttered about the shop wiping down the glass cases.

_"Looking for anything in particular, son", the old man asked._

_ Bellamy chuckled, "You wouldn't happen to have anything for a princess would you?"_

_ The man smiled, his weathered skin crinkling at the corners of his faded blue eyes._

_ "I've got just the thing", he said, motioning Bellamy over to one of the far displays._

_ Bellamy watched as he pulled out an exquisite diamond ring. It was a princess cut, the man explained, one and a half carats set in a double French style and beautiful colorless clarity. _

_ "I don't think I can afford…", Bellamy began._

_ "Can you do one grand", the man asked._

_ "Yeah, but I don't have it one me right now."_

_ The old shop owner looked at the besotted young man before him and grinned, "Come back when you have the money, it'll be waiting for you."_

So, when Bellamy came back today with the money, the elderly gentlemen had simply handed him the ring with a smile and a quick "Good luck."

Now, walking to his car with the ring in his pocket, he was beginning to get nervous. What if Clarke didn't like it, or worse what if she said no? The thoughts continued to swirl around in his head as he hopped in his truck and pulled out onto the highway.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Clarke sat on the couch with her best friend and roommate, Octavia Blake. They'd been inseparable since meeting in their first day of college five years ago.

"I don't know what's up with him, O", the blonde said with a shake of her head, "He's been acting weird all week."

"He's Bellamy, sweetie, when does he not act weird", O said with a shrug, her eyes still glued to the television and some girl's search for the perfect wedding dress.

"What if he's going to break up with me", Clarke said suddenly, "That's it! He's going to break up with me!"

Octavia turned to her friend, a look of horror spreading across her features. "Clarke, he's not going to break up with you!"

"Well then what's his problem? Why has he been acting so secretive and just plain weird", then another thought occurred to her, "He's having an affair isn't he?"

Octavia groaned, scrubbing a hand down her face in agitation.

"Why don't you just ask him tonight? Don't you have a hot date or something?"

"Yeah…"

"Then take it up with him then", Octavia said in annoyance.

"Fine", Clarke huffed, "You're no help."

O glared at her, bringing a finger to her lips as she shushed the blonde and gestured to the television. They sat in silence throughout the remainder of the show, the only sound being Clarke's dramatic sighs and huffs of annoyance.

Later as the blonde readied for her date, taking special care picking out her outfit, clothes strewn about her room in chaotic display. She held up a little black dress, the neckline fairly modest and the hem coming just above her knees.

"What about this one", she asked O, the girl sprawled across her bed texting Lincoln.

"I like that one. I believe I bought it for you last Christmas", her friend said with a smirk.

"Alright, black it is."

Clarke scurried off to do her hair and makeup; leaving her hair down in loose waves, deciding on a dramatic smoky eye and a red lip. She pulled the dress on, fighting with the zipper until she finally had to ask Octavia for help.

"What shoes are you going to wear", O asked as she finished with the zipper.

"I was thinking my red pumps Bell got me for my birthday this year," Clarke grinned.

"I'm sure Bell will approve then", O said with a wink.

Just as Clarke slipped on her heels, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it", she said as she sprinted for the door.

She opened it wide, staring at the delicious sight that met her hungry eyes. Bellamy stood there shifting from foot to foot, his dark grey shirt opened at the collar and his black slacks free of wrinkles.

His dark curls were still slightly damp and a nervous smile curved his lips as he greeted her.

"Hey Princess", he said huskily.

"Hey", Clarke squeaked.

"You look beautiful", he said as his eyes moved over her form.

"So do you", she said a bit breathlessly.

Bellamy chuckled, bringing a bouquet of roses from behind his back.

"For my favorite girl."

Clarke inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers, caressing their blooms as she moved to put them in water.

"They're gorgeous, thank you sweetheart", she exclaimed.

After her roses were taken care of, Clarke walked hand in hand with Bellamy down to his waiting truck. The big black machine was shiny and clean, the chrome gleaming in the bright moonlight.

"Your chariot awaits," Bellamy said with a dramatic bow.

"Thank you my gallant knight", Clarke grinned as he helped her into the vehicle.

On the drive to their favorite restaurant, Clarke watched as her boyfriend settled into a strange rhythm. He would change the radio, fix his collar, stare into the rearview mirror, adjust his seatbelt, smile at her, and then continue the process all over again.

By the time they reached the restaurant, she was sure he was going to have a nervous break down. He calmed some as he took her hand to escort her inside, his fingers entwining with hers as though he would never let her go.

They were shown to their table, their drink order was taken, and they were left with their menus. The blonde scanned hers quickly, already knowing what she wanted, before laying it aside and once again observing the man before her.

His dark eyes were glued to one spot on the menu, never wavering, and she wondered if the intensity of his gaze might bore a hole through the flimsy plastic casing.

When the waiter returned with their drinks, he quickly took their orders and then left with a smile. Bellamy took a giant gulp of his water, setting it aside as his fingers began to drum on the tabletop.

All of his nervous energy was making Clarke nervous, and all she wanted to do was ask him what was going on. However, she refrained, not wanting to spoil the food with any bad news.

They ate in silence, the dark haired man shoveling in his Chicken Parmesan at an alarming rate. Clarke didn't say anything though; she just fought the urge to inhale her Eggplant Lasagna.

As soon as the plates were cleared away, Bellamy ordered their favorite Tiramisu with a smile. He didn't say anything; he just took her hand and began to rub his thumb over her knuckles.

After their dessert arrived, Clarke was just about to sink her spoon in to the sweet goodness when Bellamy stopped her.

"Clarke…Princess, I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you sitting in the floor of your dorm room. Every argument we had was an excuse to be near you, an excuse to watch as your blue eyes sparked with anger or victory if you'd won. Being near you has become the most important part of my day, and on those days when I don't see you nothing goes right."

Clarke watched in dumbfounded amazement as he knelt beside her chair, her hand clasped gently in his own as he pulled out a black box. He flipped it open to reveal an exquisite diamond that shone in the candlelight. Her gaze flew to his face, and the smile that curved his lips brought a smile to her own.

"I love you, Clarke Griffin, and I never want to spend another day without you. So, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

The blonde expelled a relieved sigh, her eyes flooding with tears as she gave an excited nod. She watched as he slipped the ring on her finger, the band a perfect fit.

Then she was in his arms, hugging him close as she whispered in his ear.

"I love you, Bellamy Blake, and there's no one else I'd want to spend my forever with."

His lips found hers, sealing their promise and promising so much more. He trailed kisses all over her face before resting his forehead against hers.

Clarke chuckled, pecking him on the lips.

"What's so funny", he asked.

"I thought you were going to break up with me", she replied.

Bellamy pulled back, his dark gaze glued to her face. "You what?"

"Well you'd been acting so strange and secretive lately that I thought you were cheating on me and that you were going to break up with me tonight."

At her fiancés groan, Clarke giggled.

"Was I really that bad?"

"Yeah, babe, you were really that bad. I was afraid you were going to choke on your chicken because I wasn't entirely sure you were taking time to chew."

Bellamy laughed, pulling her close again, "Well did I dispel any doubts?"

"Yep, you're stuck with me now Blake", Clarke grinned.

"Won't hear me complain", Bellamy said, capturing her lips with his own in a long slow kiss.

**Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me you're thoughts! :)**

**Wright: Thank you so much for all of your reviews! They really make my day! I'm so glad your enjoying my little "rambles"! Thank you so much for your support! :)**


	9. Dentist Declarations

**Enjoy! :)**

**#9**

Bellamy rolled over grabbing his phone off his nightstand, his gaze wandering to the alarm clock- 10:30. He'd just gone to sleep three hours ago, but after glancing at the caller ID and finding Octavia's name on his screen he was quick to answer.

"Hey O, what's up?"

"Bell, I'm sorry, I know you probably just got home from the precinct not too long ago but I have a huge favor", his sister said.

"Sure, anything", he found himself answering.

Octavia gave a sigh of relief, "Thanks big brother. I brought Clarke to get her wisdom teeth cut out this morning, and she's just about to come out of surgery but I just got a call and Lincoln had an accident at work. I was hoping you could come and take care of Clarke while I go to him."

Bellamy groaned, but found himself agreeing. "Alright, give me the address and I'll be there in thirty."

He jotted down the street name, then jumped up and rushed through getting ready. He took time for a quick shower, but didn't bother drying his hair. He grabbed a travel mug and some day old coffee then headed out the door.

By the time he reached the small dentist's office, Octavia was chomping at the bit to get to Lincoln.

"Go", he said as he took a seat in the waiting room, "I'll take care of things here."

He watched her run out, and then he took a long swig of his black coffee before reaching for one of the girly magazines sitting on the table to his right. He flipped through the pages, glancing around the room from time to time.

He'd made it halfway through a Better Home &amp; Gardens when a nurse came to the door.

"Clarke Griffin", she called.

Bellamy stood, making his way to where the woman in bright purple scrubs stood.

"Hi, I'm Bellamy Blake…"

"Of course, right this way Mr. Blake. You're listed as her second emergency contact and your sister informed us that you would be here to take her place."

Bellamy followed in stunned silence. He couldn't believe that he was one of Clarke's emergency contacts! Granted he cared deeply for his sister's best friend but he didn't think for a second that the little spitfire returned those feelings.

He watched as the nurse stopped outside a closed door, giving a light knock before entering. He followed, stopping at the sight that lay before him. Clarke Griffin, ever composed, lay sprawled in a vinyl recliner her cheeks stuffed with gauze and her eyes hazy.

"Hi Clarke, I've brought a visitor", the nurse said with a smile.

"Bellamy", Clarke slurred, her words garbled by the gauze and anesthetic, "What are you doing here?"

"O called and said she had an emergency she needed to take care of", Bellamy said vaguely.

"What kind of emergency", the blonde asked trying to sit up a little straighter.

"Nothing serious. How do you feel?"

He watched as she glanced his way, a sigh escaping and causing blonde tendrils to flutter about her face. The nurse gave a little wave, the door closing behind her.

"I'm good. Bell, are you gonna video me? I don't want O to miss anything."

"Uh, sure," Bellamy said as he pulled the phone from his pocket.

"Hey O", the little blonde giggled before turning serious, "You're not my best friend."

Bellamy sucked in a deep breath, wondering where Clarke was going with this strange monologue.

"I always said you were my best friend, but I kinda lied. You know who my real best friend is, Bell", she asked turning to stare at him.

"Who Princess", he asked hesitantly.

"You", she replied, her blue eyes glued to his face.

"Me? I thought you couldn't stand me", Bellamy said with a smirk.

"Don't be jealous O, please. I didn't mean to fall in love with him, it just kinda happened", the blonde pouted.

Bellamy felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs as he observed the petite woman, her fingers moving to the I.V. attached to the back of her hand.

"Bell, what's this? I don't like it", she whined.

He reached over, gently moving her fumbling fingers from the needle, "Don't touch that."

"But why? I'm a doctor! I'm allowed", Clarke said with a mild glare.

"You're not a dentist. Only a dentist can take that out", Bellamy said pulling the first explanation he could find.

"Ok", she chirped, seemingly satisfied for the time being entranced with his fingers.

She traced every line on his palm, bending to get a better look.

"I always loved your hands, so strong", she muttered.

"Oh really", Bellamy asked, the situation getting stranger by the moment.

"You're so pretty, Bell! Why do you have to be so pretty", Clarke said grumpily as she slumped back in her seat.

"I assure you it wasn't intentional, Princess", the dark haired man chuckled.

"I know. You were just born this way, and now every woman falls in love with you. I don't like them though because they get to kiss you and hold your hand. I always wanted to do that…" She trailed off.

"Do what", Bellamy asked, instantly regretting it.

"Kiss you", Clarke replied, her eyes going round as she continued, "And hold your hand, and hug you whenever I want, and go to dinner with you, and sit with you on the couch and play with your hair."

Bellamy stared at the blonde, his eyes feeling as though they would pop from his head. He'd had no idea that she felt this way, or if she even really did. She was on some heavy-duty stuff at the moment, and he was positive that she had no idea what she was saying.

He was finally saved when the nurse came back in, clipboard in hand.

"Alright, Ms. Griffin, you're all ready to be signed out", the woman said with a cheery smile.

She handed Bellamy the clipboard as she moved to remove the I.V. Clarke gave the woman a funny look, her blue eyes darting to the man beside her.

"Bell, what's she doing", she asked nervously.

Bellamy glanced up from the release form, "She's just taking out your needle, Princess."

"Are you a dentist? Bell said only a dentist was allowed to take it out", Clarke said jerking her hand out of the nurse's grip.

"The dentist gave me permission, I promise", the woman said with a smile.

"Bell", Clarke said, one hand reaching for his.

"It's fine", he reassured.

He watched as her eyes scrunched up, a little yelp escaping as the nurse removed the tape and pulled out the I.V.

"There all done", she said with a smile, "Here's her prescription for some pain medicine. She may not need it, but go ahead and get it filled just in case."

Bellamy exchanged the clipboard for the prescription and listened as the nurse explained Clarke's care over the next 24 to 48 hours. He nodded, his gaze flitting over the sheet of information she'd given him.

"If you don't have any questions", the nurse said with a smile, "Then you're free to take her home."

"Thank you, I think that's got it", Bellamy said returning the woman's smile.

He helped Clarke up, keeping a tight hold on her as she wobbled along beside him. She smiled at everyone they met; exclaiming- "This is my best friend!"

The people in the waiting room just nodded, their gazes following the odd pair as they exited the building.

Bellamy finally got her to his truck and into the passenger seat, buckling her in and then moving to the driver's side. All the way home Clarke tried to sing every song that came on the radio, and when he tried to turn it off she nearly had a conniption.

He'd never been more thankful to see his sister's house than he was that day as he pulled into the drive and put the truck in park. He got Clarke inside, Raven coming from the back of the house to watch as the Rebel got the little blonde settled on the couch.

Suddenly Clarke popped up, her eyes wide and her blonde curls sticking out in all directions.

"Hey Rey", she squeaked.

"Hey sweets", Raven replied before turning to Bellamy, "You must have had fun."

"You have no idea", Bellamy replied dryly.

"Rey, I didn't love Finn. Did I ever tell you that", the blonde blurted.

Raven's gaze flew to Bellamy whose hand now covered his eyes.

"No, I don't believe you've ever mentioned that."

"Well I didn't. I thought I did, but I lied. I've done a lot of that lately", Clarke slurred.

"Oh really", Raven said with a raise of her brows.

"Yep really", the little blond chirped, "I loved Bell the whole time but I was too scared to tell him."

Raven's jaw dropped, her dark eyes taking in Clarke's love struck expression as she stared at the dark haired Rebel. She looked at Bellamy, the poor man looked tired and like he'd had his fair share of emotional anesthesia induced declarations.

"Did they give you a prescription for pain meds", she asked him.

"Yeah."

"Why don't you go get that filled and I'll stay here and…"

The mechanic didn't get to finish her sentence because Clarke quickly stumbled off the couch. Her shaking hands reached for Bellamy's t-shirt as big crocodile tears began to spill down her cheeks.

"No", she wailed, "Don't leave me! I'll be good, I promise!"

Raven looked from him back to the little blonde barnacle that clung to him for dear life.

"Well, sorry Blake, I tried. I guess I'd better make the drug run and you should stay here", she said with a shake of her head.

"I think you're right", Bellamy conceded as he turned back to Clarke, "Alright, Princess, I'm not going anywhere."

He watched as Clarke immediately settled down, and cuddled up to him as he sat down beside her. He placed a pillow in his lap and grinned as she lay her head down, her eyes closing as he ran his fingers through her curls.

He checked his watch, finding that he could finally take the gauze from her mouth. As fast as she was drooping, he decided he'd better do that before she fell asleep.

"Open your mouth, Princess," he said softly.

"Why", she said in that little girl way he knew he was going to miss.

"Because I need to take the gauze out of your mouth."

"But I don't want you to take the marshmallows", she whined.

Bellamy chuckled, "Sorry, but they have to come out."

"Fine", Clarke said as she opened her mouth wide.

He quickly plucked the blood stained gauze from her mouth, pitching it onto the coffee table. She settled down again, grabbing his hand and placing it on her head. He grinned, message received as he began to once again run his fingers through her hair.

Clarke had slept for about an hour when she slowly began to come to. Her head felt fuzzy and her mouth was sore. She rolled to a sitting position, blinking her eyes rapidly in an attempt to clear her vision.

"Sleep well, Princess", a voice asked to her right.

"What are you doing here, Bell", she asked hoarsely.

"Taking care of you."

"Where's O?"

"She had to go to Lincoln. Undoubtedly he had a rough morning at the fire station and got a little singed", Bellamy replied, "It's nothing serious though, and she should be home in about half an hour."

Clarke groaned, "Did they send me home with any pain meds, my mouth is killing me."

"Sure thing. Wait right here and I'll be back."

Clarke watched him go, leaning her head back against the couch. He returned in a flash, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and pressing a cool glass of water into her hand.

"Thanks", she said before throwing back one of the large white pills.

She looked up at him, her clear blue eyes taking in the dark smudges beneath his brown eyes and the exhaustion that oozed from every pore of his body.

"Go home, Bell", she said softly.

"Nope", he replied, taking his place beside her and grabbing the remote.

"You're tired and you have to work tonight…"

"I called in", he blurted.

"Good. I'd hate for something to happen because you had to babysit me all day", Clarke said, her blue eyes locked on his face.

"I had fun Princess. You're pretty entertaining when you're loopy", Bellamy said with a grin.

He watched as a little smirk curved her lips, and was shocked when she lay back down with her head in his lap.

Just then O came walking through the front door, coming to sit in one of the chairs beside the couch.

"How do you feel sweetie", she asked Clarke.

"Like I had my wisdom teeth cut out", the blonde murmured.

"Did you video it, Bell", O asked anxiously.

"Uh, well", Bellamy stuttered.

"Come on, big brother", Octavia begged.

Bellamy looked down at the little blonde, her eyes closed and her hands clasped beneath her chin. He pulled out his phone and handed it to his sister as his fingers moved back to the blonde curls of their own accord.

O watched the video in amused silence, glancing at the two people on the couch from time to time. Her brother looked uncomfortable and Clarke's eyes had popped open shortly after her inebriated self had declared her love for the dark haired man whose lap she occupied.

When the video ended, Octavia handed the phone back to Bellamy with a little smirk.

"Well Clarke, I would say I'm surprised… But I'm not. I'll leave you two to talk this out", she said as she stood and left the room.

"Bellamy", Clarke began.

"It's ok, Princess", Bellamy said cutting her off, "I know you didn't mean those things."

Clarke sat up, taking his hands in her own successfully drawing his gaze to her own.

"See that's the thing, Bell. I meant every word. You are my best friend. You're the one I want to tell when something good happens, or the person I most want to call when I've had a bad day. I never loved Finn like I thought I did, or like he loved me. Every time I said those words back to him, I knew I was lying. I hate watching you date other girls and wishing that I could take their place. I love you, Bell, and this is me in my right mind and completely aware of what I'm saying", she said seriously.

Bellamy just stared at her for a moment, and then he was kissing her softly. He pulled back, wrapping his arms around her and placing a gentle kiss atop her head.

"I love you too, Princess", he said softly, a grin curving his lips, "You sure do know how to confess your feelings for a guy."

Clarke chuckled, "Well you've got the proof. I was uninhibited and way more honest than I ever intended to be."

"Well I'm glad O called me because I wouldn't have missed this for the world, Princess."

The blonde smiled, snuggling into his side and giving a contented sigh.

"I'm glad she called you too, Bell. Thanks for taking care of me."

"Any time, sweetheart", Bellamy replied, "I'll always be hear."

Octavia and Raven stifled their giggles as they listened from the kitchen.

"You're brilliant my friend", Raven said with a wide grin.

"It was actually Lincoln's idea", O explained, "He said that the truth always comes out after some good old fashioned anesthetic."

"Well it worked and now we don't have to pretend not to see those longing looks anymore", the dark haired mechanic smiled.

"Yes, thank goodness!"

"To our absolute brilliance", Raven said with a raise of her coffee mug.

"To our absolute brilliance", O replied clinking her mug with her friend's.

This would be the story they both loved to tell their little niece five years later- the story of how they finally got her mommy and daddy to admit their feelings for one another.

**Thanks for reading! Please review! I love hearing from you guys! :)**

**Wright: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you enjoyed nervous Bellamy! He is completely adorable! :)**


	10. Black is the Color of My True Loves Hair

**Here is yet another drabble for your enjoyment! Thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and favs! You guys are the best! :)**

**#10**

Clarke stood organizing rolls of gauze and bottles of salve, her back to the entrance of the med bay. A rowdy commotion rumbled behind her, and she turned to find Octavia dragging a scowling Bellamy into the room.

Abby and the other patients watched in rapt fascination as the small brunette shoved her brother onto one of the examination tables before folding her arms across her chest.

"Deal with him", she said before turning and leaving the way she came.

The blonde stared after the girl before turning back to Bellamy, her brows raised in question. She watched as he opened his mouth as if to speak before closing it and crossing his arms with a wince.

Clarke rolled her eyes, pulling the curtain closed and taking the wooden stool beside the cot.

"What happened", she asked, her tone caring with a slight hint of annoyance.

"Got shot", the Rebel replied hotly.

"You what! Where Bellamy", Clarke said as she jumped from her seat and began to run her hands over his torso.

The stubborn man couldn't conceal the grunt of pain that escaped his clenched jaw when her hand passed over his right shoulder. She watched his face carefully as she gently prodded the area, one of his knees jerking into her thigh when she used more pressure than was necessary.

"Were you just going to try and take care of this yourself", Clarke asked angrily.

"Was gonna try."

"Take your shirt off, tough guy", she said, rolling her eyes when a wolfish smirk curved his lips. "Don't even say it!"

Bellamy snapped his mouth shut, but the smirk remained as he pulled his black t-shirt over his head.

When she turned back, Clarke set to work cleaning the wound and then searching for the bullet. When she found none, her gaze travelled back to the pair of dark brown eyes that watched her every move.

"Where's the bullet, Blake? Don't tell me you dug it out yourself!"

"Miller", Bellamy answered hesitantly, "But before you fly off the handle, I told him to."

Clarke glared at him, turning back to the task at hand. She stitched the ragged flesh back together, smearing a generous portion of Monty's salve on it before taping a fat square of gauze over the wound.

"There, I'll find you in a week and take the stitches out."

"Thanks Princess", Bellamy said, standing and pulling on his shirt.

She watched him go, shaking her head as she cleaned up the mess. The curtain slid back just as she was wiping the blood from her hands, her mother's head popping into view.

"Did you get him taken care of", Abby asked.

"Yep", Clarke answered shortly.

"You know he refuses to come to me right", the older woman said with a smile.

After Clarke had returned home, she'd found that her mother no longer held any animosity towards Bellamy. The pair ganged up on her from time to time telling her to eat or rest when she'd been working too much.

"I know, and he barely comes to me", the little blonde said in exasperation.

Abby smiled at her daughter's aggravation, "He's a man, sweetie, nothing they do ever makes sense."

"You can say that again", Clarke muttered as her mother disappeared.

The next few days she didn't see Bellamy much. He'd refused a position on the guard, choosing instead to lead various hunting expeditions. He'd left the morning after she'd patched him up and he'd been gone for three days.

The weather was turning hot, the humidity was high and the air was muggy. Clarke fought to keep her thick curls off her neck, wearing them in a thick braid down her back.

Sweat soaked her body causing her clothing to cling to her like an uncomfortable second skin. The only reprieve they got from the heat was after the sun went down and the cool night breeze began to drift down from the mountains.

On one such night, Clarke sat beside one of the fires munching on some of the berries that had just begun to ripen. Her gaze found Bellamy across the way where he told stories of his most recent hunt, various female giggles erupting as his hands gestured wildly.

Clarke scowled, returning her gaze to the fruit now staining her hands. She could still hear the feminine flattery, but his deep voice drew her attention again. She admired the way the firelight made his bronze skin shine, and the way the flames flickered in his dark eyes.

She watched as one dark lock of hair fell across his forehead, and she realized that he was getting pretty shaggy. Black curls brushed over his ears and fell just above the collar of his t-shirt.

"You need a haircut", one of the girls purred, nearly causing Clarke to choke on her berries.

As she coughed, her cheeks reddening when she felt his gaze on her. She looked up to find him smirking, a strange glimmer of something in his velvety brown eyes.

"I guess I could use a trim. Anyone want to do the honors?"

Clarke's eyes narrowed as Nelly raised her hand, the girl standing with a shy grin. Before she knew what she was doing, the blonde stood and marched to where the dark haired man stood.

"What about you, Princess? Are you up for the job", he asked wryly.

"Come on", she said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him to her room on the Ark.

She flipped on the light, thank goodness for Kyle Wick, and pulled up a chair. She grabbed a pair of scissors from her nightstand, and turned to find Bellamy sitting in the chair shirtless with that doggone Blake smirk curving his lips.

Clarke drew near, her mouth suddenly dry and her breathing ragged. She lifted a tentative hand to his dark curls, her fingers brushing through his hair of their own accord.

She felt him relax, a little sigh escaping to ruffle the hair at her fingertips. She began to trim away the curls above his ears, the dark strands falling to the floor at her feet.

Soon she was completely absorbed in her task, her fingers gathering hair to snip away. She tried to ignore the way he leaned into her touch, the way his breath hitched as her hands ghosted over his shoulders, and the effect his nearness was having on her.

When she was satisfied she'd taken enough off and that everything was even, she ran her fingers through his black curls one more time before patting his shoulder.

"There you go, Bell. All done", she said with a smile.

Clarke watched as he stood, but instead of moving away, he came nearer. One of his hands rose to her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over the delicate bones of her face.

His dark eyes bore into her lighter ones, and soon his hand found its way to her hair. She gulped as his fingers wove through her blonde curls, brushing her neck before continuing down her back.

"Thanks Princess", he murmured, his voice hoarse and distracted.

"You're welcome", she squeaked, her cheeks heating once again.

She watched as his eyes flickered from her blue orbs to her lips before finally settling on her mouth. She felt him lean closer, and her breath caught when his lips descended on her own.

After nearly a year of dancing around each other, their first kiss was more than she could have imagined. Her arms wound around his neck, and her fingers toyed with his freshly trimmed curls.

When their lungs begged for air they pulled back, smiles on their faces and eyes bright with desire. Clarke felt like she was on fire, Bellamy's body warming hers, and blood thundering in her ears at the wild beating of her heart.

"Mmmm, if that was your thank you maybe I should give you a trim more often", Clarke mumbled against his skin.

She felt him chuckle, the deep rumble vibrating beneath her cheek.

"Princess I've wanted to do that since the dropship doors opened."

Clarke jerked back, staring up at him in astonishment.

"I thought you hated me!"

"I hated the way you made me feel. I tried to distance myself from you, but you'd already stolen my heart. I was a goner the second I saw those pretty blue eyes", he said with a smirk.

"Pretty blue eyes, huh", Clarke said with a snicker.

"Yep, and that cute little nose and those intoxicating mouth of yours- even if it does give me the most trouble!"

Clarke snuggled into him, her fingers dancing along his spine. They stood there for what felt like an eternity before a loud yip sounded in the doorway. The pair turned to glare at Octavia and Raven where they stood grinning and giggling.

"When I heard she'd dragged you off I figured she'd finally decided to murder you! But THIS is sooo much better", Raven said with a wink.

"All I've got to say is thank goodness! You were getting a little grumpy Clarke and you were nearly impossible to live with big brother", O grinned.

The couple stared at each other, a long-suffering sigh swirling between them.

"Well Princess, should we announce the news our self before these two shout it from the rooftops", Bellamy asked.

Clarke tapped her chin, her blue eyes thoughtful before she smiled up at him. One of her hands settled at the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

"They can wait, I've waited long enough", she whispered before brushing his lips with her own.

**Thanks for reading! Please review! I'll take any prompts you might want to send my way too! :)**

**Guest: Thanks for the review! I'm so glad chapter 9 made you giggle! I feel that my goal was accomplished because I really wanted that one to be humorous! :)**


	11. Love Hurts

**Thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and favs! You guys are the best! :)**

**#11**

Bellamy had loved Clarke Griffin his whole life. At first she'd been the tiny blonde spitfire who'd quickly become like a little sister. Then she was the one person who understood him- his best friend. Now she was the gorgeous woman who occupied his dreams, the woman he would love for the rest of his life.

There was only one problem, she didn't know. He'd never had the courage to tell her how he felt. Sure he'd thought about it a few times, but every time he got up the gumption something would ruin the moment.

Bellamy walked into the tiny coffee shop, scanning the mismatched tables for his blonde best friend. She'd told him that she had something very important she needed to discuss with him, so here he was.

Clarke wasn't here yet, so he ordered her iced Caramel Latte and a simple black coffee for himself and took a seat near a window. He stared into the dark liquid, wondering what his favorite blonde needed to talk to him about.

He didn't have long to wait as the woman herself slid into the chair across from him. She took a long sip of her coffee, groaning with a smile.

"This stuff is marvelous! I'm so glad you found this place", Clarke said with a wink.

Bellamy chuckled, "Anything for you Princess."

He watched as her smile faltered for a moment, and reached over and took her hand in his.

"Ok, let's have this important discussion", he said giving her hand a squeeze before letting go altogether.

Clarke's deep blue eyes darted about the small café for a moment before finally coming to rest on his face. She took a deep breath, her hands gripping her coffee cup.

"I'm engaged", she blurted, closing her eyes tight against the outburst she thought was coming.

Bellamy sat in shock, his heart struggling to beat and his lungs fighting for air. He gulped, trying to form a coherent response. He watched as her eyes fluttered open hesitantly, a question lurking in their depths.

"You're not going to yell? I thought you'd be upset", Clarke said with a frown, "When O told you she and Lincoln were engaged I thought you were going to have a heart attack!"

"I trust you, Princess", Bellamy said quietly, "I just want you to be happy. So if you're happy with this guy, then you have my support."

He watched as Clarke's features softened, and she immediately rose from her seat and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back, trying not to drown in the alluring scent of her apple blossom shampoo.

"Thanks Bell", she whispered, kissing him on the cheek before going back to her seat.

"You're welcome Princess", Bellamy said with a soft smile.

100100100100100100100

_Three Months Later…_

Bellamy sat sandwiched between Octavia and Lincoln; his arms crossed over his chest, fighting to keep the glare from his face as he listened to Finn brag about his work with the Peace Corps.

If he had to hear the story about how Spacewalker single handedly saved an entire village one more time, he was going to break something, and by something he meant the arrogant blowhole's nose.

"I need some air", Bellamy said, wriggling until he could rise from the couch.

He caught Clarke's gaze as he walked from the room. He took a deep breath, moving through her darkened bedroom, stopping when he spotted a picture he hadn't seen in a while.

Bellamy picked up the frame from her nightstand, looking down into he and Clarke's smiling faces with the Panama City beach in the background. Dark sunglasses held back the wild tendrils of blonde hair; her blue eyes were shining, and her skin pink from sunburn.

"That's my favorite", she said behind him.

He turned to find the blonde leaning against the doorframe, a fond smile curving her lips.

Bellamy chuckled, "That was quite a summer."

"Yes it was. I thought you'd go crazy trapped in a car with two eighteen year old girls", Clarke grinned.

"I've been stuck with the two of you my whole life, I think I'm used to it", Bellamy replied cheekily.

"And you loved every minute of it", Clarke said as she poked him in the side.

"That I did", he said softly, turning to look into her deep blue eyes.

Suddenly Clarke took the picture from his hands, laying it on her bed as she led him out to the tiny balcony just off her bedroom. She let go of his hand, gripping the railing as she looked out over the dark cityscape.

Then she turned back to him, taking both of his hands in hers- her thumbs rubbing absently over his knuckles. She looked up at him, uncertainty clouding her blue gaze.

"Bell, I have a favor to ask", she said quietly.

"Sure, Princess", Bellamy replied quickly.

"Would you walk me down the isle?"

Bellamy stood there in silence, pain spreading through his chest at her request. How could he give away the woman he loved to a man he knew didn't deserve her.

At his silence Clarke began to squirm.

"I didn't know who else to ask. I guess I could ask Kane if you don't want to do it. I don't want to make you feel like you have to, but Bell you're so important to me and it would mean so much if you'd do this", she said, her blue eyes pleading.

Bellamy sighed, knowing he could never say no to her when she looked at him like that. So, he pulled her into his arms and rested his chin atop her head.

"Anything for you, Princess", he whispered.

100100100100100100100

_Two Months Later…_

Bellamy sat in the back of the dress shop flipping through one of the bridal magazines that'd been sitting on the table beside his chair. O was skimming through the racks, and Clarke was getting her last fitting.

The wedding was less than a month away and he wasn't ready. He couldn't stand Finn; there was just something about the guy that he didn't trust. He'd tried to find a way to tell Clarke, but he always stopped himself.

He was here for moral support, and even though he was her best friend, he still didn't have the right to tell her that she couldn't marry the man of her dreams because he, Bellamy Blake, didn't like the guy.

He flipped the page, a smiling couple staring up at him. He growled, closing the magazine and slamming it down on the little table with more force than necessary. His little outburst garnered his sister's attention, and soon she was seated beside him.

"What's up with you", O asked, "You've been walking around like someone kicked your favorite puppy for months."

Bellamy rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest and refusing to meet his sister's knowing gaze.

"See! There it is", O exclaimed.

"I'm fine O", Bellamy said, his expression changing as Clarke walked out of the dressing room.

The sight of the woman before him made his mouth go dry. The white dress had a sweetheart neckline, narrowing at the waist and flaring at the bottom. A nervous smile curved her lips and a slight blush crept up her neck.

"What do you think, Bell", Clarke asked.

Bellamy stood, his feet seeming to have a mind of their own as they carried him to where Clarke stood. He stopped behind her, catching her gaze in the full-length mirror.

"You look beautiful, Princess", he said reverently.

Clarke's smile transformed into one of pure joy as she turned to hug him for all she was worth. Octavia watched from a distance, her heart sinking as she realized what had been bothering her brother.

Later, Bellamy found himself in his truck alone with his sister. They'd just dropped Clarke off at her apartment, and the vehicle was quiet except for the soft music filtering through the speakers.

"You love her", Octavia said suddenly.

"Who", Bellamy asked, trying to play dumb.

"Clarke."

"Of course I love her O, she's like a sister to me, not to mention my best friend", Bell replied with a forced smile.

"No, you're IN love with Clarke", O said more forcefully this time.

She watched as his breath hitched and his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"Yes", he whispered.

"Oh Bell", O cried softly, "How long?"

Bellamy gave a mirthless laugh, "I can't even remember when I started loving her, O. It was just a natural progression until one day I realized I couldn't live without her. I was too scared to tell her, and now I've lost her forever."

Octavia could feel the tears threatening, burning her eyes as she laid a gentle hand on her brother's forearm.

"You have to tell her", she said quietly.

"No! I'm not going to ruin this for her. She deserves to be happy!"

"Bellamy", Octavia protested, "Do you honestly think she'll be happy with Finn?"

"It doesn't matter what I think", Bellamy ground out, "This discussion is over."

The truck came to a stop in front of Octavia and Lincoln's house, and Bellamy refused to look at his sister as he put the vehicle in park. He could tell that she wanted to say something more, but he was thankful when she refrained.

She kissed him on the cheek, leaving him to sit in silence.

That night he didn't sleep, tossing and turning as he thought about what his sister said. He knew that he was right, but part of him wanted to take O's advice- part of him thought he deserved happiness too.

100100100100100100100

_One Month Later…_

The day of Clarke's wedding dawned cloudy and gloomy, the weather perfectly matching Bellamy's mood. He sat in Clarke's dressing room, his eyes glued to the rainy outdoors instead of the screen where the blonde was changing.

"Bell, you there", Clarke called.

"Yeah Princess", he called back.

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing", she asked quietly.

It was just the two of them, O had gone to find something blue and all of the other bridesmaids were out front getting pictures made.

"I can't answer that", Bellamy said honestly, "That's something only you can answer."

He watched as Clarke worried her bottom lip, her face peaking out from behind the screen. He read the uncertainty in her eyes, and it made his heart soar. However, the fickle organ quickly plummeted at her next words.

"I love Finn. I'm doing the right thing", she said determinedly.

Bellamy sighed, "Good, whatever makes you happy Clarke."

A short while later Bellamy found himself standing with Clarke waiting to walk down the isle. They were hidden behind some tall shrubberies, their view of the ceremony obstructed.

Clarke fidgeted, gripping his hand and staring at her shoes. Finally he'd had enough. He took her face in his hands, his gaze capturing her own.

"Are you really happy, Princess", he asked.

Clarke hesitated, and then opened her mouth to answer just as the music began to play.

"That's our cue", she whispered.

Bellamy offered his arm, swallowing the emotion rising in his throat. He began to walk her down the isle, his steps slow and measured. He glanced at her, noticing her watery smile as she looked at Finn.

They were nearing the end of the isle when suddenly Clarke looked at him, and his whole world stopped. Bellamy realized in that moment that he was about to do something stupid.

"Who gives this woman", the officiate asked.

Bellamy looked down at Clarke, taking a deep breath and turned to face her.

"I can't let you do this", he said, watching as her eyes widened.

"What do you mean, Bellamy", Clarke asked in confusion.

"I can't let you marry him, Princess, not when I'm deeply and irrevocably in love with you", Bellamy said, taking her hands in his own.

Out of nowhere a fist collided with Bellamy's jaw, knocking him backwards. He fell hard on his back, hitting his head against one of the white wooden chairs. He lay there for a minute, dazed as he fought to stay conscious.

Bellamy placed a tentative hand at the back of his skull, bringing it back coated in blood.

"Bell, are you okay", Clarke said as she knelt beside him, worry coloring her features.

"Yeah Princess, I'm fine", he groaned as he shifted into a sitting position.

Suddenly Clarke was on her feet, her finger pointed in the middle of Finn's chest as she fumed.

"How dare you", she seethed, "What were you thinking?!"

Just then a brunette came running up the isle, stopping before the chaotic scene.

"Finn, how could you", she said brokenly, "They told me what you'd done, but I wouldn't believe them."

"Raven, I…" Finn began, his voice dying in his throat.

Bellamy rose shakily to his feet, swaying slightly before his world righted itself.

"Who are you", he asked, his voice gruff.

"I'm Raven Reyes, Finn's fiancé. I was deployed a year ago. It was going to be my last", Raven said angrily.

Bellamy felt white-hot rage consume him, his own fist shooting out and a loud satisfying crack echoing out in the silence as Finn crumpled to the ground.

The sudden movement sent Bellamy's world spiraling out of control once again, flashes of light dancing in his vision.

"I need to sit down Princess", Bellamy said, his words slurring slightly.

Clarke reached for Bellamy, watching in terror as he fell to the ground. A sob tore from her throat as she sank down beside him, her wrathful gaze turning on Finn.

"Here", she said throwing her ring at his chest.

"Clarke, please don't do this", Finn begged.

Octavia came on the scene at that moment, kneeling beside her brother's still form and watching as her friend scrambled to her feet.

"I was wrong, Finn", Clarke said icily, "I don't love you. I thought I did, but I was wrong. I've been having doubts about this day for months, but I thought it was just cold feet. Today has shown me that there is only one man I will ever love, and that man is not you!"

Thankfully Lincoln was there to grab Clarke before she could scratch Finn's eyes out, her heated threats ringing in the ears of all of her guests as they watched the scene unfold.

Raven took the opportunity to throw her own ring at the baffled man, turning and storming away with her head held high until she bumped into a young engineer by the name of Kyle Wick who was more than happy to drive her home.

Bellamy came to at Clarke's angry screams, watching as she kicked and thrashed in Lincoln's arms trying desperately to get to Finn.

"If I ever see you again I'm going to do something anatomically impossible with this stiletto", she screamed.

Bellamy couldn't help but laugh at Finn's surprised expression, the sound drawing the fuming blonde's attention. He smiled as she calmed, Lincoln loosening his grip as she could return to her best friend's side.

"You scared me", Clarke whispered, one hand on his cheek.

"Sorry, Princess", Bellamy replied, struggling to sit up.

"Lincoln", Clarke called, "Help me get Bell up. We're going to the hospital."

Soon Bellamy found himself sitting in the ER at Ark General, Dr. Griffin standing before him in a pretty maroon dress as she waved a flashlight before his eyes. Clarke stood off to the side, still in her wedding dress, a worried frown creasing her brow.

"Just a slight concussion", Abby said as she pocketed her pen light in her white lab coat, "No strenuous activities and someone needs to wake you up every one and a half hours."

"I'll be f…"

"Bellamy Blake, don't you dare say you'll be fine", Clarke ground out before turning to her mother, "I'll make sure that he's taken care of."

Abby smirked, "I'm sure you will, sweetie."

Clarke glared at her mother, then came forward and took Bellamy's arm.

"Ok Rocky, let's go", she grumbled as she led him out of the small examination room and out into the waiting area.

Their friends all met them, Octavia giving her brother a hug before stepping back to admire the dark bruise marring his skin.

"What did Abby say", O asked.

"I have a slight concussion, nothing to worry about", Bellamy answered.

They all watched as Clarke crossed her arms and rolled her eyes letting out a frustrated huff.

"Ok, doesn't that mean you have to be woken up every few hours", O said.

"Yeah, but…"

"Yes, that's why he's coming home with me", Clarke stated, once again taking Bellamy's arm and leading him slowly from the hospital.

No one said another word, and they would never admit to the small celebration in Lincoln's SUV after the pair were dropped off at Clarke's apartment.

Clarke got Bellamy situated on the couch, grabbing two bags of frozen peas from the icebox before going to change. She came back seconds later with a defeated frown, turning around in silent pleading for Bellamy to unzip her dress.

Once the task was done, the blonde meandered back to her bedroom and changed into a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. She came back carrying a pair of sweatpants, gently laying them in Bellamy's lap.

"They're yours", she said with a smirk at his look of incredulity, "All of Finn's belongings will be burned tomorrow."

Bellamy went to her bedroom and changed, coming back in the sweats and his white undershirt. He regained his seat on the couch, Clarke quickly taking both bags of peas out of his hands and placing them against his injuries as he closed his eyes.

She was quiet for a moment, but he could feel her eyes on him.

"Spit it out", Bellamy ordered, one eye opening to stare at her.

"I'm sorry Bell. This is all my fault", Clarke said, tears gathering in her blue eyes.

Bellamy sat up, turning and taking her hands in his own- the peas forgotten where he'd thrown them on the coffee table.

"None of this was your fault, Clarke", he said seriously, "I should have told you how I felt a long time ago."

"You weren't the only one with secret feelings", Clarke said quietly, "I just always thought you only felt brotherly affection for me. I never dreamed you'd fallen in love with me."

Bellamy smiled, pulling her close. "Well I have, and I'm never letting you go Princess."

Then he kissed her, imbuing it with all of the love and longing he'd felt for so many years. When he pulled away, Clarke's eyes fluttered open and a soft smile curved her lips.

"Don't worry Bell, from this day forward you're stuck with me."

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_Six Years Later…_

"And that's how Mommy and I knew we loved each other", Bellamy said, finishing his four year old daughter's favorite story.

He tucked her pink comforter tighter around her little body, handing her the ragged doll her Auntie O had made her before placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Good night, baby", Bellamy said with a smile.

"Night Daddy", Jackie grinned, snuggling down into her covers.

He flipped off the light, closing the door behind him as he made his way down the hall.

"And that's how Daddy ruined Mommy's wedding", Clarke said, finishing their son's favorite story.

Jake wasn't the fan of the romantic telling like his twin sister, he preferred the gore and blood. So, Clarke readily complied, embellishing here and there to the little boy's delight.

"Good night Jake", she said as she kissed the little boy's forehead.

"Night Mommy!"

When Clarke met him in the hall, she wrapped her arms around his waist going up on tiptoe to give him a slow kiss.

"You get Jackie all taken care of", she asked.

"Yep, now that all of the goodnights have been said, are you ready to turn in Mrs. Blake", Bellamy asked.

"After a day of t-ball and ballet, you bet I am", Clarke grinned.

As Bellamy held his sleeping wife, he couldn't help but think they're story was perfect. Sure if they'd confessed their feelings a little earlier it would have saved them a lot of pain and heartache. However, they wouldn't have the story to tell their beautiful children and, if he was honest, he never tired of telling it.

**Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you thought! :)**

**Wright: Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying my little 'rambles' :) I'm always happy to give some sweet fluffy Bellarke!**


	12. Chicken Cacciatore

**Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows, and favs! You guys are absolutely awesome! :)**

**#12**

Clarke was standing in the ER waiting room speaking to the nurse at the front desk when a loud commotion sounded near the large glass entrance.

"I didn't need to come here! I said I was fine!"

The blonde turned quickly, knowing that voice and its owner like the back of her hand. Her gaze landed on Bellamy, blood seeping through a tear in his white button up, his tie askew and his partner Miller dragging him through the automatic glass doors.

"I don't care if you say you're fine, Blake! I'm gonna be spending my afternoon trying to get the blood stains out of the car, so you might as well be just as miserable," Miller groused.

Clarke rushed forward, her eyes darting from one detective to the other.

"Clarke, thank goodness," Miller said in relief.

"What happened," Clarke asked, her hands moving to Bellamy's bloodied sleeve.

"Well Detective Blake here decided to be a hero and take down a bank robber without any backup," Miller said looking pointedly at Bellamy.

"What," Clarke practically yelled, "What were you thinking, Bellamy? You could have been killed!"

"Miller was busy, and he was a little guy anyway," Bellamy said, one of his black dress shoes scuffing at the industrial tile at his feet.

"A little guy with a gun apparently," Clarke fumed, "Well come on, I might as well get you taken care of. "

"Well if you've got him, I wasn't kidding about the blood stains," Miller said as he turned to go.

"Thanks Miller," Clarke called after him before turning to the receptionist, "I've got this one Maya."

The woman nodded, pressing the button that opened the doors that led to the ER. Clarke led Bellamy to a little area that had been sectioned off with a light blue curtain.

She sat him down on the cot, turning her back to him as she readied the stainless steel instrument tray. When she finally faced him again, she found him tapping his foot nervously.

"Alright, Blake, take off the shirt," Clarke said as she put on the latex gloves.

Bellamy smirked, his dark eyes sparkling as he began to work on the buttons. Unfortunately, he couldn't do it one handed so Clarke ended up removing his shirt for him. She was proud of herself though, she managed not to blush one bit.

She threw his shirt in the trashcan, moving her attention to the six inch gash on his left shoulder. Thinking about how this could have ended differently made her hands shake slightly as she disinfected the graze.

Bellamy seemed to sense her trepidation, one hand moving to her hip as his thumb rubbed gently back and forth over her scrubs. She relaxed slightly, her hands steadying at his touch.

She and Bellamy had been friends since her second year of college, and he was an affectionate guy, so she didn't say anything about the intimacy of the gesture. She simply kept her mind on the task at hand, and tried to keep her eyes from wandering to the handsome man at her fingertips.

Clarke ended up giving him about fifteen stitches before bandaging the wound and grabbing for Bellamy's chart. Her eyes bounced over the information before landing on his birth date.

She tried to hide her surprise, glancing up to make sure that he hadn't seen her bug-eyed stare or heard her quick intake of breath. Bellamy was just sitting there staring off into space, twiddling his thumbs and bouncing his legs.

This new information thrilled Clarke because she'd never known the exact date of her best friend's birth. He'd always said that he hated his birthday because it held bad memories, and even Octavia refused to share the date or the reason why he avoided it.

The blonde took a mental note, July 19, and then quickly closed the folder. She turned back to Bellamy, a smile on her face as she wrote out a prescription.

"I'm going to send out for you some Bacitracin. Put it on after you get out of the shower and change the bandage," Clarke said as she scribbled on a small notepad.

"Ok, thanks Princess," Bellamy replied as he took the slip and rose to stand.

A plan formed quickly in Clarke's mind, bringing a smile to her face as she called out to her friend. "Hey Bell, would you mind a cooking lesson this weekend. Say Saturday at 7?"

Bellamy had been teaching her to cook for a little over a month now, although they were behind on lessons because her work schedule had been so crazy. She watched as a slow smile curved his lips, and his velvety brown gaze floated to her face.

"Sure, Princess, I think I could manage that. See you Saturday," he said as he turned to leave, still very shirtless- something Clarke was having a hard time ignoring.

The next few days passed relatively quickly, and soon it was finally Saturday night. Clarke spent the morning cleaning her apartment then going to the grocery store to pick up the necessary items to make Bellamy's favorite meal.

While at the store, she'd found a cute birthday card and she'd even picked up a chocolate cake with fresh strawberries on top from the local bakery. She wanted the night to be perfect, especially since she had one more surprise planned for her best friend.

The doorbell rang at exactly seven o'clock before Bellamy just came on in. Very rarely did they ever knock, and she was accustomed to him just barging in since he'd had his own key to her place since she'd moved in three years ago.

"Hey, Princess," Bellamy said with a fond smile as he made his way into her kitchen.

Clarke rose from where she'd been reading on the couch, following him into the kitchen and watching as he began to pull out pots and pans. Her mouth went dry as he reached for one of the bowls in the top cabinet, his black t-shirt stretching across the toned expanse of his back.

Suddenly she was pulled from her thoughts when Bellamy's deep echoed in the silent kitchen.

"Clarke," he said, a frown beginning to furrow his brow.

"Sorry, what," Clarke asked sheepishly.

"Are you ok, I called your name at least four times."

Clarke blushed, one hand running through her tousled curls, "Sorry, it's been a long day."

Bellamy hummed, nodding his head but piercing her with his deep brown eyes- searching her features for any sign of distress. When he seemed satisfied that he'd found nothing to worry over, he turned back to the fridge and began to pull out the ingredients they needed for Chicken Cacciatore.

"Alright, Princess, let's see how you dredge those chicken breasts," Bellamy said with his arms crossed over his chest.

Clarke stepped forward, sprinkling the chicken with salt before coating it in flour and placing it in the pan of hot oil her cooking coach had all ready on the stove. She looked up at Bellamy, watching as he wrinkled his nose before allowing a grin to curve his lips.

"Good job, now we're going to let that cook about five minutes per side. In the mean time, I'll observe your dicing skills. Chop up that red bell pepper, the onion, and about three cloves of garlic," Bellamy instructed.

Clarke did as she was told, careful to keep her fingers out of the way as she chopped the vegetables into small chunks. Bellamy gave her a nod, and she quickly took the chicken from the pan and set it aside on one of her large red plates before tossing in the ingredients she'd just chopped.

"Now we wait until those are tender then we'll add our dry white wine, let it simmer for about three minutes, and then we'll be ready to add our tomatoes, capers, and oregano."

Clarke spent the next ten minutes chopping while the wine was reducing and then stirring in the remaining three ingredients. She let it simmer for a few minutes, and then added the chicken to the sauce at Bellamy's instruction before covering it with the lid.

As they waited the thirty minutes for the chicken to cook, she and Bellamy talked about their day as they cut the lettuce for salad and made a quick Italian vinaigrette to go on top.

Clarke poured the tangy dressing over the crisp lettuce, her eyes darting to Bellamy where he leaned against the counter watching her.

"What," she asked with a raise of her brows.

She watched as Bellamy blushed, his gaze falling to his black shoes and his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Nothing," he said, his dark eyes finding their way to her face once again.

Clarke shook her head, her timer going off to alert her that their chicken was done. She plated the tender white meat, pouring a generous amount of the tomato sauce over each cutlet before sprinkling a little fresh basil on top to add some color.

She gave both plates a serving of salad, shredding some parmesan cheese over the top before taking them to her small dining table, where Bellamy had their waters waiting for them.

"This looks great, Princess," Bellamy smiled before digging into the meal, an appreciative groan escaping after he took his first bite.

Clarke smiled watching him enjoy his food as she nibbled on her own. She'd realized months ago that she'd fallen hard for her best friend, but she'd never gotten up the courage to tell him.

Now sitting across from him, she hoped that she hadn't lost her nerve once again as she laid the card before him. She watched as his eyes widened, a question written in the velvety brown depths as he tore open the seal.

His eyes moved back and forth as he read, before he laid the card down and simple stared at her. Clarke gulped, about to open her mouth and recant, when a slow smile curved Bellamy's lips.

"This was all for my birthday," he said in surprise.

Clarke nodded, "I saw your birthdate on your chart and when I realized it was this weekend I wanted to do something special just the two of us. I wanted to help you make new memories."

Bellamy shook his head in shock, "Why would you go to all this trouble?"

"Because I love you, Bellamy Blake, and your worth it," Clarke said with a soft smile.

Bellamy's head shot up, his dark gaze capturing her own, "What did you say?"

"I said you're worth it…"

"No, the other part," Bellamy said, his eyes wide.

Clarke smirked, "I said I love you, Bellamy. I have for a long time, I just didn't know how to tell you."

Before she knew what was happening, Clarke found herself standing before the man she loved- his hands gently cradling her face as his lips descended on hers. It was like the Fourth of July in her head, bright flashes of color as pure happiness coursed through her veins.

When Bellamy pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers- sighing deeply as his hands continued to fiddle with her curls.

"Best birthday ever," he whispered, a huge smile that made his eyes sparkle curving his lips.

"And we haven't even had dessert yet…" Clarke smiled as she brought his head down for another kiss.

**Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you think! :)**

**To everyone who sent me prompts: You guys are the BEST! You've given me so many ideas, and they are all amazing! Thank you soooo much! :)**


	13. The Green-Eyed Monster

**Here's some jealous Clarke for y'all! Enjoy! Oh and btw, Chapter 12 is new too so if y'all would read it and tell me what you think I'd be eternally grateful! :)**

**#13**

Clarke sat in the meeting tent situated within the ruins of Tondc. This would only be the second time she'd seen Lexa since the battle at Mount Weather all those months ago.

Bellamy was sitting beside her, his dark eyes scanning the room and his hand resting on the hilt of his knife. He hadn't liked the idea of meeting with the Commander, but Clarke knew that this was the only way to establish peace between their two peoples.

The blonde glanced at the opening, watching as Lexa entered the dim interior- coming to stand at the end of the long table. The Commander didn't speak; she just stared at Clarke obviously trying to convey something with eyes that had long ago lost the ability to spark with emotion.

Clarke turned away, speaking quietly to Nyko who sat just across from her. The Grounder Heda cleared her throat, calling their meeting to order.

"Why have you come Clarke," Lexa asked pointedly as she sat down.

"You know why we're here, Commander. Our truce has been left untended, and we desire to reestablish it. Our people worked well together when we faced a common enemy, we see no reason why we can not work in harmony again," Clarke answered, her blue eyes hard as she held Lexa's stare.

"Very well, the truce stands," the Commander said with a nod.

The rest of the meeting covered the details of their agreement, and before long Clarke could tell that Bellamy was quickly losing interest. She smiled softly at his profile; he wasn't a man accustomed to sitting idle- his hands always busy.

The blonde pushed for a quick dismissal, rising to exit the tent and expecting Bellamy to follow. However, when she turned around she found Lexa with her arms wrapped around Bellamy's neck as she kissed him.

Bellamy simply stood there, arms at his sides and eyes wide open. He didn't return the kiss, but it seemed that the shock of it all had left him unable to move away.

Clarke felt anger boil up inside of her, marching over to the pair and yanking Bellamy back. She glared at Lexa, putting her hands on her hips as she stared the other woman down.

"Wait for me outside, Bellamy," Clarke said coolly.

She watched as Bellamy staggered out of the tent, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, before turning back to the smirking Commander.

"What's the matter Clarke," Lexa asked.

"What were you doing," the blonde asked in astonishment.

"I was kissing him," Lexa grinned.

"Well that was painfully obvious, but why were you kissing him?"

"I wanted to get a reaction from you, and it looks like I've been successful," Lexa said, reaching out to take Clarke's hand.

Clarke jerked, moving her hand out of Lexa's reach, a puzzled frown marring her features.

"You thought that by kissing Bellamy you would make me jealous?"

Lexa had the decency to look chagrinned, but said nothing.

Clarke's rage boiled over, unresolved anger over what happened at Mount Weather spewing from her mouth in a scorching hiss.

"I don't have feelings for you, Lexa. I never did. Whatever you saw was of your own design, and was unreturned on my part. You betrayed me and because of you I was forced to make some hard decisions to save my people. You wanted me to be heartless, well you're going to get what you asked for. I'm not weak, Lexa, and I will never forgive you for what you did. I would kill you if I had the opportunity, so don't think for one moment that this peace treaty is a front to get back in your good graces. I'm doing what I have to do for my people, and you are simply a means to an end," Clarke finished hotly.

Lexa stared at her for a moment, realizing that she'd been wrong.

"I understand, Clarke," she said quietly.

"Good," Clarke replied with a jerky nod before turning to go.

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Clarke walked out of the mess hall, plate in hand, when she heard a feminine chuckle off to her right. She could barely make out two outlines in the dim afternoon light, but she didn't have to see them to know who they were.

After she'd come back, she'd realized that things had changed. Not just the new cabins that now sat in neat rows, or the plumbing system Wick had managed to engineer. As if coming back to those changes wasn't enough, she also had to deal with Echo's presence.

Clarke didn't understand what it was about the girl that grated on her nerves, but whatever it was she couldn't stand it. Every time she saw the Grounder it set her teeth on edge, and seeing her bringing a smile to Bellamy's face made things ten times worse.

She took a seat beside the fire, aggressively tearing off a piece of Pheasant meat from the bone. She chewed slowly, her gaze reflecting the flickering flames before her.

"What's he done now," Raven asked as she took the seat beside the frowning blonde.

"Bellamy's not the problem," Clarke groused.

"Uh yeah he is," the young mechanic said with a smirk, "You don't mind Echo speaking to Miller or Jasper and countless other guys in camp. You only get that sour scowl when she talks to Bellamy."

Clarke groaned, setting her food aside when her appetite fled.

"Is it that noticeable," she asked, her head in her hands.

"Only to most of the camp. I think Bellamy's the only one who's oblivious to your feelings," Raven said with a smirk.

Clarke looked at her friend, her nose scrunching and her eyes narrowing.

"I don't have feelings for Bellamy," she said.

Raven sighed, "Well make that two people. Undoubtedly you're oblivious too!"

Clarke harrumphed, folding her arms across her chest before allowing her gaze to wander to where Bellamy and Echo still stood talking and laughing. His eyes found hers, a small smile curving his lips.

"I don't have feelings," Clarke grumbled as she dragged her gaze back to the fire.

"You just keep telling yourself that," Raven said, "Maybe you'll brainwash yourself into believing it."

100100100100100100100

Exactly three days later Clarke had enough. Enough of Echo's giggling and more than enough of Bellamy's obvious adoration for the pretty Grounder.

She stomped over to where they stood laughing, her glare causing both of them to sober. Her blue eyes bounced from one to the other, anger emanating from every fiber of her being.

"What are you doing," Clarke asked snippily.

"Talking, what are you doing Princess," Bellamy asked, his dark eyes showing his uncertainty.

"Must you be so loud! We know you love each other but do you have to rub it in our faces!"

Clarke covered her mouth when she realized what she'd said, watching as Echo's eyes widened and Bellamy's mouth fell open. She'd really done it now.

"I'm just gonna…" She trailed off.

"Wait," Bellamy said, his warm hand wrapping around her wrist, "Is that what you think? That I love her?"

"Well don't you," Clarke asked in confusion.

"No," Bellamy practically yelled, throwing an apologetic look at the Ground woman.

"You don't, but I thought…" Clarke said.

"You thought wrong, Princess," Bellamy smiled, "Echo helped me escaped that mountain and she also helped me search for you. I'm grateful for all she's done, but I don't love her."

Clarke stood dumbfounded, her blue eyes locked with his brown ones. She saw Echo slip away out of the corner of her eye, not bothering to apologize to the woman for her outburst.

"Then who do you love," Clarke found herself asking, heat rising to her cheeks.

Bellamy smiled, his hands entwining with her own.

"I love YOU, Princess," he said softly.

Clarke couldn't speak, but that was fine because her mouth was a little busy after Bellamy's declaration- his lips moving against hers in a gentle yet heated kiss.

When they finally broke apart, Clarke smiled up at him- wrapping her arms around his waist as she allowed herself to get lost in his velvety brown eyes.

"I love you too, Bell," she said softly, "And I'm not sharing you with anyone ever again."

**Thanks for reading! Please review! I love hearing from y'all! :)**


	14. Meet the Parents

**Thanks for the support guys! Here's yet another drabble for your entertainment! :)**

**#14**

Lincoln had just gotten off a long shift at the Mount Weather EMS. He walked through the door of his apartment to find his young wife pacing in their kitchen. He watched as she wrung her hands, muttering to herself as she walked back and forth across the tile flooring.

"Hey, babe," Lincoln called.

"How are you so calm," Octavia said, coming to an abrupt stop.

Lincoln smiled, crossing the small living room to stand before her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his thumbs gently back and forth over the worn material of her t-shirt.

"You're going to be fine, O. They'll love you just as much as I do," he said softly.

Octavia took a deep, shaky breath, letting it out in a huff that sent dark tendrils of hair skittering around her face. Her shoulders relaxed, and she leaned her head against his chest.

"Remind me again why we had to elope," she said, her voice slightly muffled.

"That was all you," Lincoln smirked.

"Ugh, you need a shower," Octavia said as she stared up at him, her nose wrinkled adorably.

"Yes, mam," Lincoln said, pecking her on the cheek before moving into their master bath to shower and change.

As he got cleaned up, Lincoln couldn't help but remember the day he and Octavia returned from their wedding trip. He rubbed his jaw absently, a small smile curving his lips as the memory surfaced.

_Lincoln and Octavia had just returned from Arkadia sporting shiny gold wedding bands and permanent smiles. The couple stopped outside their apartment, the new groom scooping his bride into his arms as he went to carry her over the threshold._

_ However, their happiness was short lived. On the other side of the door stood a very angry Bellamy Blake. He looked terrible, dark circles resting beneath his eyes, a shadow of stubble covering his cheeks, and he looked like he'd been wearing the same slacks and rumpled white shirt for three days._

_ "Where have you been," Bellamy bellowed._

_ Lincoln quickly set Octavia down, shoving her behind him on instinct. This only seemed to heighten Bellamy's anger._

_ "I've been looking for you for three days, Octavia! Three days! Do you know how scared I was," Bellamy said, his brown eyes troubled._

_ Octavia peeked around Lincoln, watching as her older brother simply stood in the middle of her living room running a shaking hand through his tousled black curls._

_ "I'm sorry, Bell, but I knew if I told you where I was going you would try to talk me out of it," Octavia answered._

_ "O, I don't know where you went or whether or not I would have tried to talk you out of it. All I do know is that I wish you would have told me," Bellamy said, closing his eyes and massaging the back of his neck._

_ Just then Clarke came running in behind them, stopping in her tracks when she came upon the very tense scene before her. She looked from the couple to Bellamy and back again, her keen gaze zeroing in on Octavia's ring finger._

_ "You got married," the blonde said in surprise._

_ The room was then plunged into utter silence as all four people simply stared at one another. Finally Bellamy seemed to come out of whatever stupor he'd been in, his voice raising and his face turning a dark red hue._

_ "You got married," Bellamy roared._

_ "We eloped," Octavia said matter-of-factly._

_ "I can see that," Bellamy said as he began to pace._

_ Suddenly he stopped, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Lincoln._

_ "You," Bellamy said menacingly, "You did this!"_

_ Then before anyone could have predicted what Bellamy would do, the dark haired detective slammed his fist into the face of his sister's husband. He watched as the man stumbled backwards, a thin stream of blood trailing from his split lip._

_ "I hate you," Octavia screeched, slapping her brother hard across his cheek, "I will never forgive you for this!"_

_ Clarke, who'd been standing of to the side as a silent observer, finally stepped forward._

_ "Enough," she yelled, making her way to where Bellamy stood looking like someone had just kicked his puppy._

_ She took his chin gently in her hand, inspecting the angry red mark that was now emblazoned on his cheek before turning back to Octavia._

_ "Life is too short for you to say such hateful things to someone who has been searching high and low for you for three days", Clarke said angrily, "You're brother has barely slept since you disappeared, and now…"_

_ Clarke's speech came to a slow end as Bellamy placed his hands on her shoulders, whispering soft words into her ear. The blonde visibly calmed, taking one of Bellamy's hands in her own._

_ "What I'm trying to say, Octavia," Clarke said quietly, "Is that your brother is an idiot for overreacting, but you're an even bigger idiot for running off the way you did. I don't care what your reasons were, you should have said something."_

_ Octavia was shocked. She'd never seen Clarke Griffin so angry in her life, nor had she seen her brother and the blonde getting along so well. Something must have happened in her absence._

_ "I'm sorry," O said finally, "I should have told you where we were going. I'm sorry for worrying you big brother."_

_ Clarke and Lincoln watched as the Blake siblings hugged it out, identical grins on their faces as they pulled back to look at each other._

_ "Married huh," Bellamy asked with a quirk of his brow._

_ "Yep," Octavia answered._

_ "Well, congratulations O," Bellamy smiled, hugging his sister tightly._

_ "Now that that's settled, let's celebrate," Clarke said, once again taking Bellamy's hand in her own._

Lincoln pulled his shirt over his head, smiling at the memory of Clarke quickly coming to Bellamy's aid. Octavia was still fascinated by that moment, and they often rehashed it, trying to figure out what had changed between the two former archenemies.

He shook his head, grabbing his phone and keys off the nightstand as he passed before making his way into the living room. He stopped when he saw his wife standing in the middle of their living room, her hair swept back in an elaborate braid and clothed in a pretty teal sundress.

"You look perfect," Lincoln said, kissing her softly on the forehead.

The drive to his childhood home wasn't a long one, probably about thirty minutes, but the whole way there Octavia did nothing but pick at her dress and obsess about her hair.

"Are you sure I look alright," she asked for the fiftieth time as they came to a stop before the large brick two story.

"You look great," Lincoln reassured her.

He led her to the front door, ringing the doorbell, and waiting for the bright green portal to open. When it finally did, his mother stood in the entryway with a welcoming smile.

"Welcome," Lincoln's mother said as she waved them in, "You must be Octavia. I am Chandra, and it is so good to finally meet you."

Octavia smiled at the older woman, stepping into her arms in a welcoming embrace.

"Are you hungry," Chandra asked, "Supper is nearly finished."

"Yes, thank you," Octavia said with a grateful smile.

Just then a beautiful young woman came bounding down the stairs, a bright smile curving her lips as she raced into Lincoln's open arms.

"Oh how I've missed you, little sister," the man said as he hugged his sibling tightly.

After they separated, he turned with a smile to introduce his sister to his wife.

"Tara, this is my wife Octavia. O, this is my little sister Tara," Lincoln said proudly.

"It's so nice to meet you," Octavia said, extending her hand with a smile.

Tara shook the proffered hand, her dark eyes sparkling with fun and mischief as a smirk curved her lips.

"It's a pleasure, Octavia. I've heard much about you, so it's a real treat to finally meet you," Tara replied.

Octavia found herself enjoying dinner much more than she thought she would. Both Chandra and Tara were so welcoming and kind that it was like she'd known them for ages.

The evening was filled with funny stories from Lincoln's childhood, many of which brought a slight blush to his cheeks causing his wife to laugh even harder.

When it was time to go, Octavia found herself slightly reluctant to leave. The two women had made her feel so at home, and so part of their little family that she didn't want to leave the warmth they'd created.

After her mother died, Octavia didn't have many chances at older female role models. She'd only had Bellamy, and he'd always been enough. However, after being with Lincoln's mother and sister she knew that she'd missed out.

The drive home was quiet, and Lincoln could sense that something was wrong.

"What is it," he asked quietly.

"They were so kind. They had every right to be angry or snappish, and yet they were so nice to me," Octavia replied.

Lincoln smiled, taking her hand where it lay on the seat between them.

"You are what my mother has always wanted for me. She told me before we left that you fulfilled her every wish. She loves you as she loves Tara, you are her daughter and she cares deeply for you," he said, squeezing her hand gently.

Octavia smiled, leaning her head on her husband's shoulder.

"I should have known she would be nice. A woman who could raise a man as amazing as you would have to be pretty amazing herself."

Lincoln chuckled, "Well I for one, think you'll be every bit the mother she is."

"You really think so," Octavia asked softly.

"Yeah, I really do," Lincoln replied.

"Well that's good because your Mom will be getting a new title…"

"Oh really, what's that," Lincoln asked in confusion.

"Grandma," Octavia said with a brilliant smile.

**Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me your thoughts! I love hearing from you guys! :)**


	15. Rebel Without a Cause

**I hope y'all have as much fun reading this one as I had writing it! Enjoy! :)**

**#15**

It was the dead of winter, and Bellamy Blake was as antsy as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. After spending nearly all his time inside in meetings and various other pursuits he found quite unnecessary, he was ready to start climbing the walls.

Clarke had plenty to keep her busy in the infirmary. Nearly everyone had a runny nose, and someone seemed to be slipping on the ice every five minutes. So, she didn't understand his need for constant movement.

"Bellamy, sit down," Clarke told her husband of two years as he paced back and forth in their small cabin.

The man had been intolerable all evening, jumping from reading a book quietly, to whittling a twig down to nothing, and now pacing ominously before their fire. She would admit she found him rather handsome as the firelight flickered in his dark eyes and cast shadows across his handsome features. However, he was about to drive her crazy.

"Bellamy," Clarke yelled, watching as he turned to her with a deepening scowl, "If you can't sit still, then go outside!"

Bellamy grumbled under his breath, once again sinking down into his rocker. Clarke turned back to the paperwork spread out before her, her mind slowly returning to its task when loud stomps resumed behind her.

"Bellamy Alexander Blake! OUT," the blonde said, bringing her fists down on her desk with more force than necessary.

The dark haired man glared at her, stomping out the door and into the frosty night air. He stood on the porch for a while, fuming at the fact that he'd just been kicked out of his own home.

Then a few houses down he spotted Miller leaning against one of his own porch posts, arms crossed as he glared out into the darkness. As Bellamy looked around, he found several other men doing the same.

An idea came to him, bringing a smile to his lips.

"Hey Miller," he called as he made his way over.

"Hey Boss," Miller said with a growl.

"Monroe kick you out?"

"Yep, undoubtedly she wants to sharpen her knives in peace," the man said with a shake of his head.

"You up for something to get your blood pumping," Bellamy asked with a smirk.

"You know it! What'd you have in mind," Miller asked excitedly.

"Round up the guys and meet me at the supply store in ten," the Rebel said.

Ten minutes later a crowd of at least twenty-five guys stood huddled in the large supply shed, listening as their leader explained this new entertainment.

"If you boys are anything like me, you're sick of the inactivity and you're itching to get your hands dirty. So, welcome to the newly established Camp 100 Fight Night. The first rule of Fight Night is that none of the girls can know about it, and the second is no hits below the belt. Are we in agreement," Bellamy asked.

A chorus of yes sir's rang out in the crowded space. Bellamy put Monty in charge of the bracket, jotting down names and pairing up sparring partners for the night.

Three hours later, Bellamy walked back home. He was a little sore, but it was nice to feel the welcome burn in his muscles as he trudged through the snow. He'd fought three times that night. He'd bested all three of his opponents, and in true Rebel fashion.

He finally reached he and Clarke's cabin, stomping his boots on the porch to dispel the snow before entering. The house was dim, the fire casting a soft glow on his wife's form where she slept in their large bed against the far wall.

Bellamy undressed, washing the blood and dirt from his face, and then crawled in beside her. She shifted, throwing an arm and a leg across him as she snuggled against his chest.

"I take it you found something to occupy yourself," Clarke murmured sleepily.

"Yep, I sure did," Bellamy said with a smile.

The next meeting of Fight Night had an even bigger turnout of over thirty. They'd started a betting pool to up the ante, and all of the guys were really enjoying themselves.

They'd sectioned off four "rings", which really only amounted to four circles drawn in the packed dirt floor. This way they could hold more fights, and everyone could take a turn.

Bellamy was the most popular opponent, and reigning champ. He fought four times that night, and once again it felt good to use the muscles he'd been allowing to grow soft.

He and Miller sparred last, going round and round as they threw taunts back and forth. The younger man got in a few lucky jabs until Bellamy got down to business and laid him out in three punches.

Bellamy helped his friend from the dirt, a smirk play across his lips.

"You ok, Nate," Bellamy asked.

"Yep, but I don't know how I'm going to explain this bloodstain to Monroe," Miller said gesturing to the small red stain on his shirt.

"Sorry, bud, that's your problem," Bellamy grinned.

"Gee thanks, Boss," Miller grumbled.

Fight Night disbanded at around two that morning, each man slogging through the snow to his own house. They were all sore, battered, and happier than they'd been in weeks.

Fight Night went undiscovered for about two weeks, or so the men thought. They thought they'd done a good job of hiding the black eyes, split lips, and tender ribs. However, they weren't the actors they believed they were.

"Another one! That's three times this week," Monroe said as she stormed into med bay holding one of Miller's bloodstained shirts.

"Wick's got a few of those too," Raven said, leaning in the doorway.

"Bellamy's been acquiring a collection as well," Clarke muttered irritably.

"What could they be up to," Octavia wondered allowed as she too joined their little group.

"I have no idea," Harper said from where she was organizing medical supplies, "Monty's not saying anything."

Clarke turned to her friends with her hands on her hips, a determined light flickering in her deep blue eyes.

"Would you ladies care to find out what our men have been up to lately," she asked.

Each woman nodded, their eyes sparking with the same light of determination. They planed to quietly follow each of their husbands to wherever it was that they went every night.

Later after Bellamy slipped out of the cabin, Clarke gave him a few minutes before she followed him. Her brow furrowed as she tracked him to the large supply store at the edge of camp, finding the other women standing there as well.

"This is where they've been coming," Raven said in confusion.

"They make no sense," Harper said with a shake of her head.

"Well, let's find out what these idiots have been up to," Clarke said as she reached for the door.

They entered the dimly lit storehouse, shouts and taunts filling the air. Their eyes grew round as they took in the men scuffling in four designated rings, and the bets being called and taken by Monty.

"A fight club," Clarke said indignantly.

She looked around until she spotted her own husband fighting with one of the younger recruits, a man by the name of Johnson. She stormed forward, the large crowd of men growing silent when they spotted the women.

"Bellamy Blake! What on earth are you doing," Clarke roared.

Bellamy turned at the sound of his wife's voice, unable to block the punch Johnson threw just before he turned. The Rebel's head jarred, his eyes rolling back in his head before he crumpled to the floor.

Clarke ran forward, kneeling beside him as her hands danced over his body- her fingers poking and prodding as they searched for injuries. She sent Jasper for a bucket of water before turning to the large crowd of men.

"You're all idiots," she yelled, "Someone could have been seriously injured! What were you thinking?!"

Miller stepped forward, but he quickly fell back in line at the anger etched on his wife's features and Clarke's wrathful gaze, which was now directed at him.

"No! Don't answer that! You weren't thinking, any of you," Clarke raged as she began to pace back and forth.

"Please wake up before she kills us," Murphy muttered.

"What was that, Murphy," Clarke asked menacingly.

"Nothing, Boss," the man said averting his gaze.

Bellamy began to stir at Clarke's feet, causing her to resume her place beside him on the dirt floor.

"Princess," he moaned, "What are you doing here?"

"We found your little fight club, idiot," Clarke sneered.

"Fight Night," Bellamy corrected.

"I don't care what you call it Bellamy Alexander," Clarke screeched.

His wife's anger caused Bellamy's own temper to flare, his features darkening into a deep frown as he rose to his feet.

"We can do whatever the heck we want," he raged, crossing his arms over his chest.

Clarke's eyebrows rose, her blue eyes sparking with rage. Suddenly she turned to the crowd of men, her voice lowering an octave.

"Who wants to go a round? If this is so much fun, I'd like to give it a go," she said angrily.

"Clarke," Octavia said, stepping forward to take her friend's arm.

"No, I'm serious," the blonde said, her gaze falling on Murphy, "Come on John, I know there's been several times over the years that you'd have liked to give me a black eye. This is your chance."

Clarke stepped into the nearest circle, tapping her foot expectantly. Murphy looked from her to Bellamy, his eyes begging someone one to stop this madness.

Bellamy, who'd deflated after his wife's little declaration, shifted from foot to foot nervously.

"You'll get hurt, Princess," he said quietly.

"Well you've gotten hurt plenty, Bellamy. Undoubtedly it's pretty fun," the blonde sneered.

Bellamy sighed, raising his hands in surrender, "Alright, guys! No more Fight Night, Princess says no!"

Clarke stood there watching as her friends dragged their husbands from the storehouse, lecturing loudly as they went. She then turned to her own husband, taking in his contrite expression and bowed head.

"Come on bruiser, lets go home," she said before turning to go.

Bellamy followed her quietly all the way home, sitting in utter silence as she cleaned his wounds none too gently and harped about the dangers of fighting for sport.

When she was done, Bellamy placed his hands on her hips- turning her to face him.

"I'm sorry, Clarke," he said quietly.

Clarke huffed, "What possessed you to be so stupid?"

"We were bored," Bellamy said with a shrug.

Clarke rolled her eyes, "You're impossible."

"But you love me anyway," Bellamy asked hopefully.

The blonde stared down at her husband, the warmth from his hands seeping into her skin and clouding her judgment. She sighed, moving her hands to his shoulders, her fingers finding their way to the nape of his neck where they began to toy with the dark curls that rested there.

"Yes, I love you anyway," she said with a soft smile.

Bellamy grinned, pulling her down on his lap and kissing her senseless. He was getting ready to pull her to their bed when she stopped him.

"Hold it there, mister," Clarke said snippily, "You're forgiven, but we haven't discussed your punishment."

Bellamy stared at her for a moment, grinning wickedly.

"You're sleeping on the floor," Clarke said cheerily causing the grin to slide from her husband's face.

"Ahhh, Princess," Bellamy whined.

"You've got to learn somehow," Clarke said as she began to ready for bed.

Bellamy came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a steamy kiss right below her ear.

"What if you get cold," he whispered.

"That's what blankets are for, Mr. Blake," Clarke said, shoving his pillow at him.

Bellamy grumbled all the way to where his sleeping bag was spread out before the fire. Needless to say, he spent two nights on the floor before his wife did indeed get "cold".

**Thanks for reading! Please review! :)**

**Wright: Thanks for all of those great reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying my little jaunts into Bellarke drama! Thank you so much for always taking the time to review every chapter! It really means a lot! :)**


	16. It's the Bulls and the Blood

**For my twinkie Miss atheandra! Thanks for helping me with my writer's block girlie! You're the best! :)**

**#17**

Clarke Griffin sat between her two best friends, Raven Reyes and Octavia Blake, at the annual Arkadelphia Fourth of July rodeo. She shifted on the hard metal bleachers, her gaze taking in the sights of the arena.

The white paint on the old pipe fence was dotted with orange as rust began to bleed through, causing the paint the chip and peel. The hot July sun was setting, bringing relief as a cool breeze tugged at the braided strands of blonde hair that fell down her back.

Bright light flooded the arena as the outdoor lighting was switched on, bugs beginning to gravitate to the bulbs in swarms. Stars began to blanket the sky, the full moon shining down from above.

"Ahh, what a beautiful night," Octavia sighed looking up at the grandeur of the Texas sky.

"It is something," Raven agreed, slurping on her large Coke she'd purchased at the concession stand on the way in.

Clarke was silent, her mind miles away.

"Earth to Clarke," Octavia said, poking the blonde on the forehead.

"Hmm," Clarke murmured distractedly.

"It's a gorgeous evening," Raven supplied.

"Oh yeah, really beautiful, "Clarke agreed half heartedly.

"Come on Clarke," Octavia whined, "It's been six months! Raven's over him, why can't you get over him too?"

Clarke inwardly cringed. She was over Finn Collins, or at least she thought she was. His betrayal was still fresh on her heart, even though Raven seemed to have moved on fairly quickly thanks to a young engineer by the name of Kyle Wick.

However, Clarke had no Kyle Wick. She had no one. Not one guy had caught her fancy since Finn Collins broke her heart, and she feared she would be stuck in mourning forever.

"I know, I'm trying," Clarke replied, watching as Raven and O shared a pitying look.

"I'll tell you what you need," O said excitedly, "You need a man!"

Clarke groaned, "Octavia, you think men are a cure all for everything!"

"They are! You find the right guy and he'll cure what ails you," Octavia grinned.

Clarke looked to Raven, hoping for sympathy. Instead she got a noncommittal shrug.

"I hate to admit it C, but she's right. Kyle did wonders for me," Raven said with a soft smile as she watched her boyfriend approach.

Clarke had to admit that Wick was pretty great. He'd gotten Raven out of the house, and put up with all of her griping and complaining about every single move he made. Now though, after dating for four months, Kyle Wick could do no wrong.

"Hey babe," Raven said, leaning in for Wick's kiss.

"Hey yourself," Wick replied, "O is your brother competing tonight?"

"Yep, he sure is," Octavia replied proudly, "Lincoln's competing too, only he prefers broncs to bulls."

Clarke felt her mouth go dry, "Bellamy's here?"

"Yeah, did I forget to tell you," Octavia asked innocently.

"Yeah you kinda did," Clarke said crossing her arms over her chest.

Bellamy Blake had been a thorn in her side from the moment she'd met him, or at least until the moment she'd kissed him at Octavia's birthday party. They'd been sitting on the front porch in the old bench swing watching the rest of the gang slow dancing in the moonlight when Clarke suddenly found herself kissing her best friend's brother.

After the incident, Bellamy quickly left without a word and Clarke was sure he must regret it even now. The mere thought of the embarrassment she suffered watching him practically run to his truck had her cheeks heating with shame.

"What's the matter Princess? A little too warm for royalty," a sneering voice said.

Clarke looked up to find none other than Bellamy Blake standing before her. She gulped as she took in his western shirt tucked into his Wranglers, accentuating his muscled form and narrow waist.

She refused to answer, taking one last glance at his dark curly hair and velvety brown eyes before looking away with a huff. As her gaze skittered away, she couldn't help but notice the way his dark gaze lingered on her for just a moment too long.

As he walked away, Octavia turned to the blushing blonde, "What was that about?"

Clarke sighed, "Nothing."

"That was not nothing," Octavia cried, "I haven't seen my brother this upset since I brought Lincoln home."

"I should be the one who's upset," Clarke exclaimed, "After all, he's the one who…"

"The one who what," Raven questioned.

"We kissed, and he ran away," Clarke said hanging her head.

Octavia's eyes grew round as she stared at Raven over their friend's head.

"What," she mouthed.

Raven just shrugged in confusion, on of her hands moving to Clarke's back.

"Maybe he was scared," Raven suggested.

"He didn't sound scared just now," Clarke mumbled.

"Of course he's scared, Clarke," Octavia said softly, "He's had a thing for you for forever!"

Clarke's head snapped up, her blue eyes wide, "He has?"

"Yep, told me himself one night after he took a bad spill. Hit his head pretty hard and he was talking crazy. He said your name every five seconds, and he couldn't stop talking about you," O said with a smile.

"Really," Clarke asked.

"Really," O answered, "My brother is crazy in love with you, he's just too stubborn to admit it."

Octavia's admission made Clarke feel all warm and fuzzy. Bellamy's smirk rose up in her mind's eye, and she couldn't help but smile at the sparkle in his dark eyes.

"What do I do," Clarke asked suddenly.

"You tell him how you feel," Raven said, "We all know you love him too."

Clarke blushed anew, "Yeah, I guess I do love him. I was just afraid he would never love me back."

"Well he does, so do something about it Griffin," Wick said, his eyes never leaving his phone.

All three girls turned to stare at the snarky engineer, their mouths open in shock.

"Wick, how many times have I told you not to eavesdrop," Raven glared.

Wick shrugged, "Too many."

Raven grinned, slapping him on the shoulder before taking his hand in her own.

"You do give pretty good advice," she whispered.

"Yep, sure do," Wick said as he pecked her on the cheek.

Clarke spent the rest of the night trying to find the right words to tell Bellamy how she felt. She was both terrified and elated at the prospect of finally declaring her feelings, and she could hardly sit still.

"Stop squirming," Raven hissed, "Jasper and Monty are up!"

Sure enough Jasper Jordan and Monty Green- Rodeo Clown Extraordinaires- stepped out to the center of the arena. They both wore globs of face paint, their features nearly unrecognizable.

Their act was adorable, both telling jokes about their partner until the audience was laughing right along with them. At one point Monty feigned anger and chased Jasper around the arena until they both fell onto the soft dirt sending up a cloud of dust.

After they'd finished, the announcer revealed that it was now time for the main event. Bull riding was always saved for last being the most dangerous and most thrilling event of the night.

As Clarke watched man after man come out of the chute atop a 2000 pound bovine monster, she couldn't help but begin to bite her nails. Bellamy was good, this she knew for sure. She'd seen him compete many times over the years, but that did nothing to ease her trepidation.

"Now our last contestant, Arkadelphia's own Bellamy Blake riding Twisted Thang," the announcer proclaimed and the crowd roared.

Clarke held on to her metal seat, her eyes glued to chute number four. She thought she would be sick as the gate swung wide and a large red behemoth came out bucking up a blue streak.

The bull was huge, muscles bulging as he twisted and writhed. Bellamy was tossed around like a rag doll, but he held on. His right hand was still in the air with the buzzer sounded, and then Clarke's heart dropped.

As he jumped off, Bellamy's hand got hung up in the ropes. He was dragged, his jeans caked in mud and his other hand working furiously trying to free himself. Then the bull rammed him into the pipe fence, the dark haired cowboy going limp.

Clarke stood to her feet, terror causing her body to shake as her eyes were glued to the scene before her. Jasper and Monty were able to distract the bull long enough for one of the cowboys on horseback to get him loose.

The blonde couldn't wait another second, and before anyone could stop her she was bounding down the bleacher steps and to the holding area at the back of the arena. She reached the grassy square just as the stretcher crew brought Bellamy out of the arena.

They laid down the stretcher, assuring her that the paramedics would be there soon. Clarke knelt beside Bellamy's still form, her eyes roving over his features as tears began to course down her cheeks.

A ragged sob tore from her chest, and her hands covered her face. She couldn't bear to lose the man she'd loved without even being able to tell him how she felt.

Clarke was spiraling into the pits of despair when suddenly someone gripped her wrist, pulling her hands from her face. She looked down, finding Bellamy staring up at her.

With a little cry she embraced him, quickly jumping back at his grunt of pain. Bellamy, on the other hand, had other ideas as he quickly pulled her back into his arms.

"Scare you Princess," he asked with a smile.

Clarke sobbed all the harder, her hands gripping his shirt as her tears soaked the white material.

"Hey, I'm ok. I promise," Bellamy assured her, moving so he could see her face.

"I thought I'd lost you," Clarke hiccupped.

"I never knew you cared," Bellamy joked.

"I do care," Clarke replied, " I love you, Bellamy."

Bellamy instantly sobered at Clarke's quiet admission, his eyes widening before his hands gripped her face. His thumbs gently wiped away her tears, and then his lips caressed hers in the sweetest kiss she'd ever experienced.

By the time the paramedics arrived, Clarke and Bellamy were breathless and smiling. She refused to leave him, holding his hand all the way to the hospital. She stayed as they checked him over, the handsome cowboy refusing to cooperate unless his girl was by his side.

Later, Bellamy was released with an order to rest and go easy on his bruised ribs and minor concussion. He and Clarke walked hand in hand out into the lobby where their friends awaited them.

Octavia rushed to hug her brother, smiling when he used only the arm that wasn't attached to the hand holding Clarke's.

"You gave us quite the scare, big brother," O said seriously.

"I'm fine, promise," Bellamy assured her.

Octavia gave him a look that said she didn't quite believe him, but she didn't press. Instead she took Lincoln's hand and started for the exit, Raven and Wick a few steps behind them.

After they made it to the parking lot, Clarke was beginning to realize that Bellamy hadn't said that he loved her back. She began to doubt, fearing that he was only being kind to spare her feelings until he could let her down easy.

"Well, this is me," Clarke said as they passed her car," I'll see you around, Bellamy."

Before Clarke could go, the hand gripping hers tightened.

"That's it, your leaving," Bellamy asked.

Clarke sighed, "It was a scary situation, I don't expect you to return my feelings."

Before she could move, Clarke found herself in Bellamy's arms for the second time that night. Only this time there was nothing sweet about his kiss. This one was passionate and possessive, the way she'd dreamed he would kiss her for months.

As he pulled away, Bellamy took in Clarke's dazed expression and the dreamy look in her pretty blue eyes.

"I love you, Clarke Griffin, and I'm never letting you go," Bellamy said, his hand resting on the back of her neck and his fingers toying with her hair.

Clarke leaned into his touch, a smile curving her lips, "I love you too, Bell."

After that night, Clarke Griffin could easily say that her ex was the farthest thing from her mind. Her heart was filled to overflowing with love for her dark haired cowboy, and she couldn't wait to see what the future held.

**Thanks for reading everyone! I'm going to try to get back to the prompts ASAP! Please review, I love hearing from y'all! :)**


	17. Home Sweet Home

**ATTN: I'm thinking about posting the prologue to a chapter fic I've been working on… What do y'all think? Are you ready for it? :)**

**Thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and favs! I'm so glad you guys liked that last ramble! I'm a huge rodeo fan, and I don't think there's anything better than a tall, handsome cowboy ;) Well I hope y'all enjoy this one just as much!**

**#18**

Clarke lay on her cot, listening as the wind howled and the thunder crashed. After everything that had happened at Mount Weather and during her time on her own, she hated storms. That first night after she walked away, a thunderstorm rolled through.

She could still remember hiding in that cave, all alone, wanting nothing more than to run back to camp. She knew she could've gone back, Bellamy and her mother would have welcomed her, but she needed the time away to clear her head and find herself again.

A loud clap of thunder made Clarke jump, light flashing as the bright streaks of lightning raced across the sky. She tried to lie still, forcing her eyes to close and her mind to quiet its frantic worry.

However, at the next loud boom she was out of her cot and running outside. She had no idea where she was going until she'd entered a tent, its occupant sitting up with wide eyes.

"Princess," Bellamy said, loosening his grip on the knife that rested beneath his pillow.

"I'm sorry," Clarke said, her eyes darting to the clamor outside as rivulets of water ran down her face.

Bellamy could see the fear in her eyes with each flash of the lightning, her muscles tensing as the thunder echoed loudly after it. He sat up, allowing the blanket to slide from his torso revealing his chiseled chest as his feet touched the packed dirt floor.

"Are you alright," Bellamy asked her, wanting to reach out to her but afraid she'd bolt.

Clarke stood silent for a moment, and then her troubled blue gaze found his face, as she shook her head no.

Bellamy made a split second decision, "Come here," he said motioning for Clarke to join him.

She sat down, a large space between them, and began to fumble her fingers. She kept her gaze averted, and didn't say a word. Bellamy waited, knowing she would speak when she was ready.

Clarke sighed, "Do you remember the night I left?"

"Yeah, it stormed. Kept half of us up all night long," Bellamy replied.

He left out the part where he nearly ran into the woods to search for her, and had to be locked in the Ark for his own safety- as well as the safety of the Guards who'd tried to stop him.

"I walked aimlessly at first," Clarke continued, "I didn't know where I was going, or why I'd left really. Then it began to rain, sprinkling at first until it began to pour down with a vengeance. I can remember running, hoping to find a bunker. Then I spotted a cave, a small outcropping of rocks if I'm honest. I huddled in that little crevice until the storm broke an hour before dawn. I was terrified, and all I wanted to do was come home, but I couldn't make myself do it."

Bellamy felt like he'd been sucker punched. If only he could have gotten to her in time, maybe he could have brought her home. He allowed the torturous thoughts to invade his mind, kicking himself for not trying harder. Then he realized that it was a big maybe. He could've found Clarke, and she could have refused to come home. That would have been even worse.

"You're safe now," Bellamy said finally, taking Clarke's hand in his own.

He watched her shiver, her eyes still darting to the storm outside. She was soaked, but she was beginning to dry. She needed to sleep though, and the thought of her going back out into the storm didn't sit well with him.

"Why don't you stay here tonight? I'll sleep on the floor, and you can take my cot."

Just as Bellamy rose to begin making his pallet on the floor, Clarke's grip tightened.

"Couldn't we just share the bed," Clarke asked hesitantly.

Bellamy stared down at her, his gaze flicking to their interwoven fingers.

"Sure," he said, a smile curving his lips at her look of relief.

He moved around the end of the cot, laying down and waiting for her to do the same. He watched as she leaned back, her head resting on the pillow beside his. She lay still for a moment, and then she rolled over- snuggling into his side.

Bellamy waited, thinking she might explain, but soon her breathing evened and he was certain she was asleep. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter against his chest and then allowed his own eyes to close in sleep.

The next morning Clarke woke to warmth and hot air caressing her cheek. She opened her eyes, following the plane of muscle until she reached Bellamy's face. His features were relaxed, his eyes closed, and his mouth ajar.

She had to admit that he was rather cute when he was asleep, the angles of his face softened giving him a boyish look instead of the capable soldier she knew him to be.

He mumbled in his sleep, his arms tightening. Clarke took the opportunity to draw unintelligible designs on his skin, loving the feel of the stubble along his jaw and the silky curls at the name of his neck.

"You keep doing that and I won't be responsible for what happens next."

Clarke shivered at the deep rumble of his voice, groggy and smooth as silk. She looked up into his dark brown eyes, gulping at the heat that shimmered in his gaze.

"Sorry, I should get going," Clarke said quickly, disentangling herself from his embrace.

Bellamy watched as she pulled on her shoes, and was gone in a flurry of blonde hair. He lay there for a moment longer until he heard the sound of footsteps. Looking up, he found Clarke standing awkwardly in the entrance of his tent.

"Back so soon, Princess," he smirked.

"Bell, I think you should see this," Clarke said softly.

Bellamy jumped up and quickly pulled on his shirt and boots before following her out into the crisp morning air. He followed her gaze, his mouth falling open when he saw her tent.

The shabby material lay snagged and torn beneath a section of fence. His heart stuttered as the realization of what could have happened hit him full force. If Clarke hadn't come to his tent last night, if he hadn't made her stay, she would have been crushed beneath the heap of wire and metal.

"Looks like you're going to have to be assigned a new tent," Bellamy said absently, his mind still racing with what could have happened.

"There are no more tents. We handed out the last two a few weeks ago," Clarke said with a sigh.

"You'll stay with me," Abby said as she came upon the two young leaders.

Clarke groaned inwardly, she couldn't stay with her mother. They were doing better, but she couldn't be treated like a teenager- given a curfew and told to finish her greens.

"You know Clarke, you could just stay with me," Bellamy said.

He'd seen the look on her face after her mother's offer and knew that staying with Abby was the last thing Clarke wanted.

"We have late meetings most nights anyway, this would make things easier."

Clarke looked at him, relief showing in her blue eyes, as she seemed to consider it.

"I think that would be best. Thanks for the offer, Mom, but I'll stay with Bellamy," Clarke replied before giving her mother a hug.

Bellamy spent the next forty-five minutes helping Clarke salvage her meager belongings from the wreckage of her tent then moving them into his own. They both had so little it wasn't difficult to fit everything into the small space.

Over the next few weeks Clarke and Bellamy got used to living in the same space. It was hard at first, falling all over each other in the mornings during their rush to get ready. It was nice at night though because they now had someone to help them through the nightmares.

"How was training," Clarke asked from her place at their shared desk as Bellamy entered the tent.

"Exhausting," he replied, "Some of those guys can't hit the broad side of the Ark."

Clarke smiled, taking in his disheveled appearance and incredulous eye roll.

"Well they're just learning. Give them time. I'm sure even the great Bellamy Blake missed his mark a few times, " Clarke said with a smirk.

"I'll have you know that I never miss," Bellamy replied as he pulled his shirt over his head.

The blonde averted her gaze, listening to the rustle of fabric as he changed into the black athletic shorts they'd found at one of the bunkers. She smiled at the memory of Bellamy claiming them, and refusing to put them down until they were safely in their tent.

"These things are comfortable! I don't want one of those morons to steal them," he'd said, his grip tightening on the black silken material.

"Alright, Princess, it's safe again," Bellamy called as he climbed under the covers on his side of the bed.

"Ok, I'm almost finished here," Clarke answered, smudging the charcoal to achieve the shaded look she was going for.

She wiped her hands off on a damp rag, placing the drawing in her book before joining her co-leader. They talked for a while about the workings of camp- the meadow Bellamy had found on his latest hunting excursion and how he wanted her to see it.

"I think it would really inspire you," Bellamy said softly, "The flowers are beautiful."

"You'll have to take me sometime then," Clarke said with a smile.

The next morning, Monty and Jasper had a surprise of the blonde. Interrupting her breakfast, and ordering that she keep her eyes closed until they were ready for her to open them.

Clarke walked between the two boys, Monty's hand covering her eyes. Soon they stopped, light flooding her vision as she was told she could look.

Clarke's eyelids fluttered open, her heart sinking at the sight of her new tent.

"It's wonderful," she lied, trying to convey gratitude and false excitement.

She looked at Bellamy, watching as something passed through his dark gaze before he turned and walked away. She thanked Jasper and Monty profusely, entering to find that all of her things had already been moved over.

That night Clarke paced back and forth in her new tent unable to sit still and unable to relax enough to sleep. She was tired, it had been a long day, but something about going to sleep without her co-leader just didn't sit right with her.

Finally she exited her tent, picking her way across camp with only the waning moon to guide her way. She stopped at Bellamy's tent, wondering if he was already asleep. She stuck her head in, finding him sitting at his desk looking through her sketchbook.

"See something you like, Bell," she asked as she entered.

Bellamy jumped, turning to face her with a guilty frown.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry. Can't sleep," she asked as she sat down on the cot.

"Nope, my mind won't shut off," Bellamy replied.

Clarke knew he had to talk things out before bed, that's the main reason they had their nightly meetings- so both of them could work through their day aloud.

"You mind if I stay here tonight," she asked suddenly.

Bellamy shrugged nonchalantly, but Clarke could make out his smirk even in the dim light.

"Suit yourself," he said.

For the next hour they talked about their day, lying side by side on the cot, their voices hushed and the heat from their bodies lulling them both into relaxation.

"Bellamy, why don't we share my tent? It's bigger," Clarke asked finally, her mind wandering to this conclusion the moment she'd stepped into her friend's tent.

"What's wrong with my tent," Bellamy asked, his tone offended.

"It's tiny! Mine would easily accommodate the desk and we could even build a few shelves for clothes and books," she reasoned, "Then we could let someone else have this tent."

"But I like my tent," Bellamy whined, "I've lived here since we came down."

Clarke rolled her eyes, "How do you know that this is the exact same tent you picked out on landing day?"

Bellamy was silent a moment, and Clarke knew he was making up some lame excuse, but she waited in silence.

"It's got that little stain in the corner," Bellamy said finally.

"That's you identifying marker," Clarke said dryly, " A little stain in the corner?"

"Yeah, that little stain and I have been through a lot together," Bellamy snarked.

Clarke could hear the smile in his voice, and knew that at the moment he was just trying to be difficult.

"We're moving into my tent," she said, rolling over to end the discussion.

"Fine," Bellamy mumbled, "I didn't like this one anyway."

Clarke muffled her chuckle, closing her eyes and stifling her sigh as Bellamy's arms came around her.

The next day, everything from Bellamy's tent was moved into Clarke's. The whole camp gave them the strangest look as they shuffled by carrying the heavy desk, glaring and hurling insults at each other as they went.

When everything had been moved and placed, the pair stood back and looked at their handiwork. The desk sat in the middle, a cot on either side. Clarke had already ordered shelves, taking Bellamy's specified dimensions to the carpenters herself.

"Nice and cozy," Bellamy smiled, "Aren't you glad I had this idea?"

Clarke scoffed, "You wish you'd had this idea. I'm taking all the credit for this one."

That night Clarke found it easier to sleep with Bellamy only a few feet away. They still talked before bed, but this was more economical. They weren't ready to face their feelings, and neither wanted to ruin what was between them.

It was only three months later that Monty saw Bellamy carrying Clarke's bed out of the tent, giving it away to one of the Ark families.

"Why'd he do that, " Monty asked Octavia.

"Oh didn't you hear," O asked with a smile, "Kane married them this morning."

Monty's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in surprise, "And they didn't tell anyone!"

"You know them, if it's not camp related then it stays between them," Octavia said with a shake of her head.

Two years later, it was impossible for Clarke and Bellamy to keep their news to themselves. And when their daughter was born seven months later, let's just say the new parents were forced to share their beautiful dark haired bundle with the crowd of aunts and uncles who waited anxiously to meet her.

**Thanks for reading! Please review! Y'all are the best! :)**

**xXrebelgirl07Xx: Thanks for the review! I'm so glad you're enjoying the rambles! If you ever have a prompt you'd like to see, send it my way and I'll do my best! :)**


	18. Cooking Up Love

**Well keelsxoxo, here's your Bellarke food fic! I hope you like it! :)**

**#19**

Clarke Griffin was sprawled on the couch, her apartment dark- the faint glow of the television her only light source as she binge watched the first two seasons of Hawaii Five-0. It'd been a rough few days, and Commander Steve McGarrett had a way of making her forget all about her crappy days at the hospital and her cheating rat of an ex- Finn Collins.

She glumly brought another spoonful of chocolate ice cream to her lips, her mind wandering to the day only one week ago when she'd discovered the former love of her life had a fiancé of one year and had failed to mention this after six months of dating.

Clarke got another large glob of ice cream, scrunching her nose when the frozen treat gave her a brain freeze. She stood, her eyes never leaving the television as she made her way to the kitchen and returned her ice cream to the freezer and her spoon to the sink.

Just as she was about to plop back down on her comfy sofa, the smoke alarm in the apartment across the hall went off yet again. That was the third time in about thirty minutes.

"Good grief," Clarke muttered, throwing a sweatshirt over her raggedy pink tee and black yoga pants before marching across the hall.

She banged on the door, fully intent on telling Bellamy to just order a pizza. She tapped her foot impatiently, staring down at her fuzzy cloud slippers as her thoughts whirled from anger to annoyance.

Clarke heard the door open, raising her head and preparing to give her neighbor a piece of her mind, but the words died on her tongue when her gaze collided Bellamy Blake. After being hung up on Finn, she'd forgotten how handsome he was.

His eyes were a dark velvety brown, and she could only imagine the secrets that were hidden behind his brooding stare. Jet-black curls caressed his forehead, brushing his ears and the color of his black button up that accentuated his muscular arms and torso. His lips were all too kissable, and the freckles that dusted his nose and cheeks had her itching for a pencil and sketchpad.

"Uh… Hi," Clarke said dumbly, earning a dark glare from the man before her.

"What do you want Princess," Bellamy asked.

"I heard your smoke alarm again," Clarke said, anger beginning to rise within her, "I was going to see if I could help, but I guess you've got it under control."

She spun on her heel in a flurry of blonde curls, when a hand reached out and wrapped around her elbow.

"Wait," Bellamy said, his voice losing its cockiness, "You know how to cook?"

Clarke wanted to make a stinging jab, but instead she just nodded.

He sighed, opening his door wide and allowing her to enter first.

"I'm trying to make dinner for Octavia and her new boyfriend, but I'm failing miserably."

Clarke tried to hide her grin, her gaze traveling to the kitchen that looked like the site of a natural disaster.

"You're not far off," she agreed.

"Well what were you trying, and failing, to cook," Clarke asked with a smirk.

Bellamy looked away, a blush staining his cheeks. "Noodles," he mumbled.

Clarke grimaced, "You burned three pots of noodles?"

"No, just one," Bellamy defended.

"Well then what in the cat hair did you burn the other two times," the blonde asked with her hands on her hips.

Clarke followed Bellamy's gaze to the sink where a blackened towel and a singed shirt lay drenched in the stainless steel basin. She looked back at the man beside her, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Did you hurt yourself," she asked.

"No," Bellamy said in embarrassment.

"Well that's good. Let's just see what we have to work with and go from there," Clarke said as she made her way to his fridge.

Between the refrigerator and the cabinets, Clarke found everything she needed for peppered shrimp Alfredo.

"What dish were you going for," Clarke asked as she began to sift through his pots and pans.

"I don't know, I just got a bunch of stuff from the store and thought I'd throw it all together…"

Clarke stared at the man wondering how he hadn't poisoned himself or starved to death. Everything he eats must either come out of a can or the frozen foods section.

"Ok," she replied, "Well now you're making peppered shrimp Alfredo. The first thing we're going to do is find a good pot."

Clarke took the one he'd ruined off of his stove top, staring morosely into the bottom at the charred remains of pasta that were now a permanent fixture. She placed the pot off to the side with a grimace then plucked another one from the cabinet.

"Alright, first we're going to start some water boiling for your pasta. This pot's pretty large, so we'll only fill it halfway," Clarke said as she put water in the pot and then stuck it on the stove.

She turned on the burner, sprinkling in a bit of salt for flavor. She then grabbed an onion, slicing off a small portion and chopped it finely.

"Now were going to sauté the onion in some butter and olive oil until it's soft. While I'm doing this you can mince the garlic, and chop the bell pepper, and Portobello mushrooms," Clarke instructed.

As she worked on the onion, she watched Bellamy. His movements were clumsy and slow, but he was getting the job done. By the time she was ready for them, he had everything chopped for her and was smiling in pride at his work.

"Great job," Clarke said with a grin, stirring the new ingredients so they would cook evenly.

After that was done, the kitchen smelled heavenly and the sautéed veggies looked wonderful.

"Now we're going to get some shrimp and throw them in to cook. It won't take long, just until they turn pink and start to curl up a bit," she explained as she added the little guys to the pan.

Bellamy watched her intently, studying her practiced movements and inhaling the delicious aroma of the meal she was preparing.

After the shrimp had cooked, Clarke added some Romano cheese and Alfredo sauce to the pan heating it until it was thickened. She drained the penne pasta, placing it in one of Bellamy's nicer serving bowls, and then added in the sauce mixture.

"Now we just toss it a bit to coat the pasta, sprinkle a little bit of parsley on top, and we're done," Clarke said with a smile.

Bellamy stared at the dish and then back at Clarke, a slow smile curving his lips.

"Clarke, would you like to stay for dinner," he asked sweetly.

Clarke stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide and her mouth ajar.

"Look at me Bellamy, I'm a mess," Clarke cried.

Bellamy made a show of looking her over, his dark eyes sparkling when next he spoke. "You look pretty perfect to me," he said quietly.

Clarke blushed, "How long until your sister gets here?"

"About twenty minutes," Bellamy replied.

"Alright, I'll run home and spruce up a bit then be back before she gets here," Clarke grinned.

She ran back across the hall, stopping to stare at the paused Steve McGarrett. "Sorry, buddy," she said with a smirk, "But I've got a new man in my life now."

With that Clarke turned off the television and hurriedly put on a nice blouse and some skinny jeans. She fixed her hair, adding a few curls and a generous spritz of hair spray before putting on a teeny bit of makeup. She strapped on a pair of red heels, and then made her way to Bellamy's place.

He answered before she could even knock, staring down at her with a smile.

"Hey Princess," Bellamy said.

"Hey," Clarke answered shyly, walking passed Bellamy into his apartment.

Her gaze swept over the living space, taking in the dining table set for four, the tall white candles, and the beautiful vase of roses.

"Well what do you think," Bellamy asked beside her.

"Looks good," Clarke replied.

She'd been in his apartment several times before, they'd been neighbors for nearly three years for goodness sakes. This was Bellamy, the man who retrieved his paper in his boxers! She had nothing to be nervous about.

"You wanna help me with the bread," Bellamy asked.

Clarke stared at him incredulously, "I can't make bread in five minutes Bellamy!"

"No, I don't know how to tell when it's done…"

Clarke rolled her eyes, marching to the stove and taking a peek inside. The garlic bread was browned nicely, and for all practical purposes it was ready. She snagged one of his oven mitts- a brown one with dog-ears and a pink fuzzy tongue.

She placed the tray on top of the stove, sliced the long loaf in two inch slices, then transferred them to a basket. She wiped her hands on a towel, carrying the basket to the table just as the front door opened.

"Clarke," Octavia grinned as she came in, her very tall, very handsome boyfriend in tow.

"Hey O," Clarke smiled, hugging the younger girl.

"Bell didn't say you'd be here," Octavia said with a suspicious smile.

"It was kinda last minute," Bellamy said.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Octavia said, "You can meet Lincoln."

"Nice to meet you Lincoln," Clarke said extending a hand in greeting.

The large man took it, her hand swallowed in his larger one. His eyes were kind and he had a nice smile. This put Clarke at ease, but it obviously did nothing for Bellamy who stood glaring at the other man with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why don't we sit and eat this great meal your brother cooked for us," Clarke said staring pointedly at Bellamy.

Bellamy seemed to come out of whatever dark thoughts he'd been thinking, a smile curving his lips.

"I didn't cook this and you know it, Princess," he said with a shake of his head.

"Yep, I just took pity on you and probably saved this whole building from a fiery death," Clarke said dramatically.

The group took their seats, Clarke on Bellamy's right and Octavia on his left. This left the overprotective big brother staring across the table at his sister's new boyfriend.

To his credit, Lincoln didn't shrink from the dark glower the other man was shooting his way. Instead he sat a little straighter and joined in the conversation, complimenting Clarke on the food, and smiling adoringly at Octavia.

Dinner was going well until suddenly Octavia spoke.

"Clarke, where's Finn? I thought you two would be engaged by now," the girl said with a smile.

The blonde sighed, her chest tightening as it always did when she had to talk about her ex. "We broke up."

"Why what happened," Octavia asked.

Bellamy looked at Clarke, and could immediately see her distress. "O, don't ask so many questions."

"No it's fine," Clarke said, raising her eyes to meet Bellamy's gaze.

She took a deep breath, never looking away from the warm brown orbs filled with concern.

"I found out a week ago that he's been engaged to another woman for over a year. He cheated on her, with me…"

Clarke watched as Bellamy's features contorted into a dark frown, his eyes hardening. She looked away, not wanting to face his censure. Then he did something unexpected.

Bellamy took her hand in his, drawing her gaze from her empty plate.

"He was an idiot, Princess. You deserve better," Bellamy said coldly.

Clarke smiled, squeezing his hand. The conversation shifted, but Clarke's fingers remained entwined with Bellamy's. At some point his thumb began to stroke over her knuckles, calming her.

It soon became apparent that Bellamy wasn't happy about Lincoln, but he grudgingly accepted him. Octavia was thrilled to at least have a smidgeon of approval from her brother, and her smile was proof of her joy.

When the couple finally departed, Clarke and Bellamy left alone, an uneasy silence settled over the apartment. They looked everywhere but at each other, missing the warmth they'd shared only a short while ago.

Suddenly Clarke stood, turning to go.

"Well, I'd better go," she said softly, her back turned as she made her way to the door.

Bellamy followed her quickly, stopping her when his hand gripped hers gently.

"Clarke, wait," he said.

She turned to face him, her blue eyes searching his face as the warmth of his body seeped into her own.

"Yeah," she asked.

"I just wanted…" He trailed off, his dark eyes roving over her features. Then his free hand was cupping her face, his lips caressing hers in a searing kiss.

Clarke lost herself in Bellamy Blake, her hand sliding from his grip and running up his chest until both of her hands twined in his dark hair. She breathed him in, reveling in his touch, all of her senses attuned to him.

When he pulled back she missed him, and her arms ached to draw him close again. She stared up at him, dazed, her lips swollen from his kiss and her hair tangled around his fingers.

For the first time, all thoughts of Finn Collins were gone. If the man himself was standing two feet away she doubted that she'd even see him let alone care. At the moment her world was filled with Bellamy Blake, and she never wanted it to end.

Bellamy smiled down at the woman in his arms, resting his forehead against hers and watching as she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, her arms going around him, her fingers dancing over his spine.

"What was that," he whispered.

"Don't know, don't care," Clarke hummed, "Just as long as I get to do it again."

Bellamy chuckled, "Are you sure, Princess? Because I'm not Collins, the minute you're mine I'm not letting go."

Clarke's eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze as her fingers stopped their lazy dance.

"I don't want you to let go, Bellamy," Clarke said softly, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips.

"I've waited three years for you to say that," Bellamy said with a grin.

Clarke drew back, staring into his brown eyes with surprise, "Three years?"

"I fell for you the moment I saw you, Princess," Bellamy replied honestly.

Clarke smiled, snuggling into his embrace, "You sure do know how to charm a girl."

"You're not just any girl, Clarke," Bellamy said seriously.

Clarke hugged him tighter, "I think I love you."

Bellamy's chuckle rumbled in her ear, deep and warm.

"I think I love you too, Princess," he replied.

There were many more dinners in Clarke and Bellamy's future- their first date, their first meal as man and wife, and the first dinner in their new house. Bellamy was true to his word, he never let Clarke get away and from that day forward she knew that he was the man she wanted for the rest of her life.

If asked, Octavia would have exclaimed that she'd seen it coming that night. Two people who belong together will always find a way, and there was never a doubt in her mind that her brother and Clarke were two such people.

**Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you thought! :)**

**Now I'm going to shamelessly advertise for my new chapter fic… Please slide on over to "Love on the Field" and give it a read! I'd love to have your opinion! :)**


	19. Life is a Highway

**For P1nkPumpkin! I hope this is close to what you were thinking! Enjoy! :)**

**#19**

Clarke stormed out of her apartment, luggage in hand and angry tears blurring her vision. Seeing her boyfriend sucking face with another woman was not exactly what she'd planned for the day. However, her love life was going down the toilet thanks to Finn Collins- her now ex boyfriend.

"Clarke wait," Finn called, dark lipstick smeared on his mouth and down his neck.

"Save it Finn because I don't want to hear it! We're through," Clarke yelled, raising her hand to hail a cab.

"Clarke, I can explain," Finn cried just before Clarke threw her suitcase into the backseat of the bright yellow car and told the cabbie to step on it.

She kept her gaze trained straight ahead, thankful for the first time for Octavia's insane road trip idea. Well, everyone else was taking a plane but since she was the only one who could handle a certain dark haired Rebel, she was driving all the way from LA to a tiny Washington town where Lincoln's family owned a small campground.

Ever since Bellamy had been witnessed a helicopter crash on his last deployment he hated flying. Clarke volunteered to drive him up since she had nothing better to do, and it would really help Octavia out.

Now, she was slightly regretting her choice, knowing she'd be stuck in a car with Bellamy Blake for eighteen and a half hours. She leaned her head back, trying to ignore the stench of body odor, stale Chinese takeout, and the obnoxious cologne the driver seemed to have bathed in.

When the car finally came to a stop outside Bellamy's place, a small brick townhouse with a beautifully manicured lawn, Clarke paid the cabbie and piled her luggage on the curb as the bright yellow death trap rolled away.

"Hey Princess," Bellamy called as he trotted down the neat cement steps, suitcases in hand.

"Hey yourself," Clarke grumbled as she threw her bags in the backseat of her truck.

"Who peed in your Cheerios," Bellamy asked as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"None of your business, Blake," Clarke hissed, "Just drive."

"Fine, I wont say another word," Bellamy said, throwing up his hands in mock surrender.

Clarke sat with her arms crossed, staring silently out the window for the first hour of the trip. However, that wasn't allowed to continue as Bellamy threw a mangled atlas in her lap.

"What's this," Clarke asked angrily, ready to throw the book right back.

"Can you not read, Princess", Bellamy taunted, "It says ATLAS in big bold letters."

"I know what it is dingbat," Clarke growled, "Why don't you have a GPS like a normal person?"

"I don't like them. This works just as good, now look for my next turn," Bellamy commanded in that high and mighty tone that Clarke hated.

She opened the atlas, turning the worn pages until she found the C's and a map of California came into view. She traced the interstate with her finger, mentally mapping their route before giving him directions.

"Now was that so bad," Bellamy asked a little while later, an old Blues station playing softly in the background.

Clarke hated to say it, but she was feeling better. "No, it wasn't that bad," she replied with a grin.

"Oh, so the Princess can smile," Bellamy said, his dark eyes glancing her way as that signature Blake smirk curved his lips.

"Yes, I can thank you very much," Clarke said in mock indignation.

Bellamy's responding chuckle was warm, creating fissures and cracks in the wall that Clarke had tried to build around her heart. Before long they were talking and laughing, Finn completely forgotten.

Then darkness began to fall, and Bellamy asked that Clarke find them a town to stay in for the night. Clarke grabbed a flashlight, studying the atlas until she found a small town about ten miles ahead of them.

"Mount Weather," she read aloud, "That sounds good."

Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the tiny town of Mount Weather, California- population 100. The town sported only a single main street, lined with shops and one diner.

"There's a sign for a motor inn," Bellamy said glumly, "I'll see if they have any vacancies."

He parked the truck in the dimly lit parking lot, entering the dingy office building through a filthy glass door. He came back out moments later, face red and his hands fisted at his sides.

"Well," Clarke asked hopefully.

"Nothing," Bellamy huffed, "Looks like you've sent us to the only town without a decent motel."

"Hey this isn't my fault," Clarke retorted, "We can just move on down the road."

"There's not another town for miles, Clarke," Bellamy seethed, "We're stuck here for the night."

"Well what are we going to do," Clarke asked anxiously.

Bellamy seemed to think for a moment, "We're going to sleep in the truck."

"What? No," Clarke shrieked, "How am I going to take a shower, or brush my teeth?"

"You shoulda thought of that, Princess, before you brought us to this little hole in the wall town," Bellamy replied.

The drive to their parking place for the night was a silent one, and even after they'd parked in the small truck stop neither of them spoke. They simply sat in the darkness, both huffing and sighing loudly in frustration.

Finally Clarke spoke, "Look, I'm sorry. I just had a lot on my mind…"

"Oh really, and what could the privileged Princess have had on her mind, hmm? What color her knew BMW's gonna be, or better yet should she buy that Prada bag she's been eyeing," Bellamy sneered.

Clarke sat in stunned silence, tears filling her eyes.

"You know what, just forget I said anything," Clarke whispered, facing away from him and closing her eyes.

Bellamy tried to apologize several times, but the words just wouldn't come. So, he leaned back in his seat and prepared himself for a sleepless night.

The next morning, Clarke woke with a crick in her neck and the sun in her eyes. She sat up, Bellamy's snores filling the cab of his truck. She rubbed the painful vertebrae, wincing as she turned her head.

The clock on the dash read 6:45, and they still had about six hours to go before they reached Arkadia, Washington. Clarke glanced at Bellamy, still miffed but willing to put it all behind her in favor of an amiable drive.

"Wake up Blake," she said, smacking Bellamy's leg with the atlas.

He came up swinging with a curse, glaring at Clarke as he tried to focus.

"What do you want, Princess," he asked, his voice gravelly.

Clarke tried to ignore the way his voice affected her, giving him a searing glare in return.

"We need to get back on the road," she said with a huff.

"Fine, but we're getting breakfast first," Bellamy said as he turned on the ignition.

Clarke soon found herself sitting in a booth with Bellamy at the town's tiny diner. The table was covered with a bright red gingham cloth, the seats a soft red vinyl.

She looked over her menu, looking up occasionally to admire Bellamy's messy curls and chiseled features. She would never admit it, but he was very attractive.

"See something you like, Princess," Bellamy asked, his eyes trained on the menu and his lips twitching.

Clarke's eyes quickly fell to the menu, "The waffles look good."

Bellamy laughed out right at this, his brown eyes sparkling and a genuine smile lighting his face.

He suddenly grew serious, lowering her menu so he could see her face. "I'm sorry about last night, Clarke."

The blonde stared at him, her eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. She swallowed thickly, her eyes flickering from his intense gaze to her menu and then back again.

"It's alright, Bellamy," she said finally.

"No it's not, Princess. I don't see you that way anymore, and it's wrong of me to treat you like some spoiled brat when I know that's not you," Bellamy said softly.

"It's really fine, Bellamy. You were just tired," Clarke said with a smile.

"Be that as it may, I'm still sorry," Bellamy replied, his dark eyes pleading for her forgiveness.

Clarke rolled her eyes, "I forgive you, Bellamy. Now can we order, I'm starving!"

After they finished their breakfast, they got two coffees to go and then started back on their journey. They drove for about an hour before Bellamy spoke again, taking a sip of his coffee before glancing her way.

"So, what had you so distracted yesterday," he asked.

Clarke sighed, not sure she wanted to have this conversation.

"Drop it, Blake. It's none of your business," Clarke said with a glare.

"Well the very uncomfortable night I spent in my truck makes it my business," Bellamy said.

"Forget it, I'm not talking about this," Clarke said, crossing her arms.

For the next four hours Bellamy berated her on her navigation skills, and refused to let her change the radio station. They bickered back and forth, until Clarke finally got tired of it.

"Fine, you wanna know why I was distracted," Clarke practically yelled, "Well then I'll tell you! Yesterday after I got off my shift at the hospital, I found my boyfriend in my apartment with his tongue down some woman's throat!"

Bellamy sat in stunned silence, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"How could he do this to me," Clarke asked softly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Bellamy didn't think twice, he pulled to the shoulder and put the truck in park. He turned to the broken woman beside him, reaching across the console to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"He's a fool, Princess. It's his loss, and you're better off without him," Bellamy whispered, his thumb brushing over her silky smooth skin.

Clarke gave him a watery smile, leaning into his touch. "Thanks Bell, and I really am sorry about last night."

"Forget it, Princess. This just gives us something to tell our grandchildren," Bellamy said, kissing her before she had time to protest.

Clarke sighed, returning Bellamy's kiss with a fervor she didn't know she possessed. When he pulled away, she felt dazed and all she wanted to do was pull him in for another.

"What was that," she asked breathlessly.

"Something I've been wanting to do for a long time," Bellamy replied with a grin.

"Well could you do it again, I wasn't ready for the first one," Clarke said coyly.

Bellamy's grin widened as he surged forward, once again capturing Clarke's lips with his own.

When they finally made it to Arkadia, neither could hide their grin or their joined hands as they met their friends.

"Is there something I need to know," O asked, her arms crossed and her foot tapping.

"Let's just say there's nothing like a good road trip to show you what you've been missing," Bellamy said, smiling adoringly down at Clarke.

"Finally," Octavia said, throwing her hands in the air.

Clarke and Bellamy looked at each other in confusion. "Finally," they asked in unison.

"Yeah, we all had a betting pool going as to when you'd finally figure it out," Jasper said, "Which reminds me… Monty, you owe me twenty bucks!"

Bellamy just laughed. "Collins doesn't know what he lost, and I'm never letting you go," he whispered before kissing her deeply.

"I can live with that," Clarke replied.

Bellamy stayed true to his word, proposing to Clarke the following year. He'd given Finn Collins a bloody nose the one time he'd tried to speak to Clarke, and thankfully the dope head got the picture.

They were married at a small ceremony in Arkadia, surrounded by their family and friends.

"I love you, Princess," Bellamy whispered as they swayed to the music for their first dance as man and wife.

"I love you too," Clarke replied, thankful- not for the first time- for that forced road trip all those years ago.

**Thanks for reading! Please review! I love hearing from y'all! :)**


	20. Out of the Darkness

**Sorry it's been so long guys! This just kinda came to me so I went with it! Hope y'all like it! Enjoy! :)**

**#20**

Clarke had been gone from camp for four months when she ran into Lexa again. She'd been walking through the forest on her way back to Camp Jaha. She'd been gone long enough, and she was tired of the loneliness and exile she felt on her own each day.

She'd knelt at a quiet stream, cupping her hands and lifting the cool water to her lips. A sound brought her gaze up from the water to where Lexa stood with a few other Grounders just across the narrow creek.

"Lexa," Clarke said, forgoing a greeting, her tone cold.

"Clarke, it's good to see you," Lexa said softly, moving to cross to where Clarke stood.

"No, Lexa," the blonde said, "You betrayed me, and I can't forgive you for that."

Something snapped, the Commander's eyes growing cold and her tone harsh when next she spoke. "Are you going back?"

"Yes, I've been gone long enough," Clarke replied.

"It's too bad Bellamy won't be there to welcome you home," Lexa said, her face impassive.

"What do you mean," Clarke asked in confusion.

"The Rebel's dead, Clarke. He was killed in a hunting accident, very bloody," Lexa sneered before turning to go.

Clarke felt as though her heart had shattered in her chest, falling to her knees as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her mind playing grisly images of Bellamy's broken, bleeding body.

She raised her eyes, Lexa's retreating form causing the anger to rise. She allowed it to consume her, binding with her grief and making her reckless. She needed to feel something other than the crushing pain inside her chest.

"You're a coward, Lexa," she yelled, a feral grin curving her lips when the Grounder commander turned at her words. "Why do you follow this _ripa_," she yelled at the Grounders flanking Lexa.

She watched as Lexa's eyes widened, anger clouding the gray orbs. Then the commander was sloshing across the creek to stand before her.

"Don't do this, Clarke," she said.

Clarke laughed, a mirthless sound, "It's too late, Lexa."

Then Clarke punched the commander right in the mouth, blood soon dripping from her busted lip. The other woman stared at her, then she gave the command and Clarke was surrounded.

She fought back for a while, but soon grew to tired to withstand the onslaught that rained down upon her. As much as it hurt, it still didn't surpass the ache that made her heart feel as though it had cracked beyond repair.

Finally Lexa called for her warriors to stop, and she came to stand over Clarke where she lay bleeding on the ground. The commander knelt beside her, her eyes begging the blonde to understand.

"It didn't have to be this way, Clarke," she said softly as she pulled a dagger and thrust it into Clarke's abdomen.

Clarke cried out, her side feeling as though it'd been set aflame. She gasped for breath, watching as Lexa cleaned the knife on the soft green grass leaving dark red stains in its wake.

"Goodbye, Clarke," Lexa said, only to have her skin flecked in red after the blonde spit in her face.

"This isn't over, Lexa," she said without an ounce of weakness, "If I find that you were responsible for his death I will kill you."

Clarke watched as Lexa wiped the blood from her face, standing and walking away. When she could no longer hear the crashing of their footsteps, she moved to sit up. She whimpered, the pain bringing tears to her eyes as she struggled to her feet.

One of her eyes was swelled shut, her nose was still gushing blood, and her mouth tasted of blood. The wound in her abdomen was seeping the life from her, soaking her shirt and trickling to coat the waistband of her pants as well.

She took one staggering step, and then another. Clarke knew she had to make it to Camp Jaha now, or she was going to die alone. She just kept putting one foot in front of the other, trying to hold back the whimpers that threatened at her lips.

Soon her blood loss began to torment her mind with terrible images, most of Bellamy. At times she would see him standing before her, his dark eyes angry. He would blame her for everything, Tondc and Mount Weather.

Then that Bellamy would disappear only for another to take his place. She found she preferred the angry Bellamy to the dying one. She sobbed openly as she watched the light fade from his eyes. She begged him to stay, but he was always out of reach.

Soon the sun sank behind the mountains and the stars began to twinkle overhead. The land was bathed in moonlight, and Clarke was so tired. She felt cold seeping into her very bones, her teeth clattering loudly.

She'd almost given up hope, when the gates rose up before her. She should have felt relief, but without him there was nothing to look forward to. He wouldn't be there with his infuriating smirk, and she would give anything to hear his voice at that moment.

The gates opened, and Clarke stumbled forward. The faces that rose up before her all blurred together. She could feel her breathing slowing, and her legs refused to carry her any further.

She moaned as her body hit the dirt at her feet, shivering with cold and pain. That's when she saw him hovering above her.

"Bellamy," she whispered, reaching out to touch him.

Clarke's fingers tangled in his shirt, and she sighed because he felt so real. He was warm, and she could almost feel the beat of his heart as he gathered her against his chest.

"It's going to be ok, Princess," Bellamy said, and the fear that colored his words confused her.

"Don't leave," she whispered, her eyes falling closed as she hoped that she would see him on the other side of eternity.

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It started out as a regular day for Bellamy, he woke before the sun, leaving camp in the gray mist of early morning. He had to get away to think because if he wasn't alone then he feared he would go crazy.

He hated their pitying glances as they stared at him day in and day out ever since Clarke had walked away from him. In the beginning he'd say they had something to worry about because he'd been terrified. Now he was just hurt, and he missed her more than he wanted to let on.

At first he'd pretended like she would be back any day, refusing to believe she was gone. He fought not to give in to the fear that ate away at him ever night after he closed his eyes. His dreams of her were so vivid, and he often woke with the feel of her blood on his hands- warm and slick.

As the months wore on his fear turned to anger and resentment. She'd left him to lead their people, to deal with the Arkers, and she'd left him to do it all alone. He'd refused to speak her name for three weeks, and he'd glared at anyone who spoke of her in his presence.

Octavia had supported his anger at first until she'd seen what it did to him. It was slowly destroying him because he hated being this angry with Clarke when all he wanted was to have her back safe and whole.

Now it had all boiled down to a dull ache of loneliness. No matter how many people surrounded him he still felt as though he was the only one in a room. None of them understood what he'd been through like Clarke, and some days he'd give anything to just hear her voice.

He went to the cliff and sat for a while, staring out over the valley. It was quiet and peaceful, and he was free to think about Clarke. Some believed that she hadn't survived two weeks after she left. He'd nearly beat an Arker to death for those very words a month after she left.

Bellamy would believe that the Princess was alive until something gave him a reason to believe otherwise. Some days he thinks that even Abby has given up on her, and it makes him angry.

The only other person who fights as hard for Clarke as he does is Raven. She long ago forgave the blonde for what happened to Finn. Now it's like Spacewalker has created an unbreakable bond between them.

Soon the silence becomes too much, and Bellamy's thoughts have wandered from the happier thoughts of Clarke to the dark thoughts that haunt his dreams. He walks back to camp, and carries out his duties for the day.

By sunset his shoulders ache, and Clarke has been a constant in his thoughts all day. Some days are worse than others, and this one has been especially bad. No matter what he did, her face was at the forefront of his mind and he couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.

He was just heading to his tent for the night when a shout sounded at the gate. He ran in that direction, his mind whirring with the possibilities. He stops when he sees her, and he immediately feels sick. Her face is beaten beyond recognition and there's an alarming amount of blood staining her shirt.

Bellamy runs forward when he sees her stop, his heart plummeting when she falls to the ground. No one moves to help her, and for a second it makes him angry. He pushes through the crowd, growling and shoving people out of his way.

Then he's kneeling beside her, and her blue eyes are trained on his face. They hold a look of wonder as she reaches out for him, her hand gripping his shirt weakly.

"Bellamy," she whispers, and she sounds so close to oblivion that it scares him.

He quickly gathers her into his arms, "It's going to be ok, Princess."

He rushes to med-bay, his dark glower parting the crowd. Abby meets him in the cold metal room as he deposits Clarke on the hard steel table. She doesn't move, and the rise and fall of her chest is the only thing that reassures him that she still lives.

"You can go now, Bellamy," Abby says, and Bellamy bristles.

"I'm not leaving. Tell me what you need, I assisted Clarke plenty of times," he said coldly.

Abby looked at him for a moment, as though trying to read something in his dark eyes. All she saw was his apparent love for her daughter, and she knew that Bellamy Blake wasn't leaving without a fight.

"Fine, hand me those scissors. I need to see what we're dealing with," Abby said with a sigh.

For the next two hours they clean away the blood and gore from Clarke's skin. The wound in her abdomen had to be seen to first, Abby's sutures sure and straight though her hands shook. There had thankfully been no internal damage done by the blade, so the stitches would do the trick.

Bellamy gently cleaned away the blood from Clarke's skin, whispering softly to her all the while. She doesn't stir, not when her mother sews her back together and not when they change her from her soiled clothing into a clean soft gown.

After they've finished Abby is exhausted and shaking. Bellamy tells her to go, there's no way he's going to leave and there's no sense in both of them losing sleep tonight. She hesitates, but something in his gaze has her nodding in agreement.

Once she's gone, Bellamy pulls up a chair. He takes Clarke's hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over where he knows her pulse throbs at an unsteady beat. There were several times they thought they'd lost her, and then she would take a shuddering breath and her heart would continue to beat.

Abby came back to relieve him four hours later, but Bellamy didn't leave. Instead he fell asleep on a cot nearby. It's restless, but he's so tired he doesn't even dream.

He's woken hours later by her screaming. He jumps up from his cot, turning to find Clarke in a corner. Her blue eyes are terrified as they watch her mother. She's shaking, and he can tell she won't last much longer as she slides down the wall to huddle on the floor.

Bellamy comes to stand behind Abby, "What did you do?"

"I tried to kill her," Abby snaps, "What do you think I was trying to do Bellamy?"

Clarke quiets when she hears his voice, her gaze glued to his face.

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Clarke woke to pain, her eyes fluttering open. She expected to see blue sky above her, towering trees rising all around her. Instead it's cold metal and a sterile smell she remembers all to well.

Fear consumes her and she screams. She's back on the Ark. There is no Bellamy, no earth, just the cold metal of her prison. Then she saw her mother coming towards her, and she remembered those words spoken after the bombing of Tondc.

Clarke had become the person she hated most. She'd become just like her mother, willing to sacrifice anyone and anything for her cause. This alone terrified her, and she relived it all again.

She couldn't bear for her mother to touch her, so she scrambled to the far corner- ignoring the pain in her side. She was shivering and her legs buckled. She slid down the cold metal into a crumpled heap.

Then she heard his voice, and Clarke looked up to see Bellamy standing behind her mother. For a moment she thought he was real. Then she remembered he was dead and the tears came unbidden.

She buried her head in her hands, sobs wracking her body. Why did he have to be here to remind her? Why couldn't she have joined him in endless sleep?

Clarke felt a warm hand on her shoulder, looking up to see Bellamy kneeling before her. He looked just as she remembered, dark eyes and soft curls. How she'd missed him! She never should have left she knew that now.

"I'm so sorry, Bellamy. Please forgive me," she begged."

Bellamy stared down at the woman before him, her blue eyes unfocused and filled with sorrow.

"There's nothing to forgive, Princess," he said as he wrapped her in his embrace.

She comes willingly, falling against him when her strength is spent. He carries her back to her cot, laying her down and moving to rise when she grips his shirt.

"Please don't leave me, Bell," she says, tears glistening in her eyes, "I know you're not really here, but I just want you to hold me for a little while longer."

This confused Bellamy, and he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Clarke, I'm here. It's really me," he said, taking her face gently in his hands.

"No, you're dead," Clarke cried, her breath coming in soft gasping sobs.

"No, sweetheart, I'm right here. See," Bellamy said placing her hand over his heart.

Clarke felt her breathing even when his heart beats strong and steady beneath her fingers. She looked up at him in confusion; unable to separate reality from the terrible dream she'd been living in.

"But she said you were dead," she whispered brokenly.

"Who," Bellamy asked, her fingers still lying over his heart.

"Lexa. She said you were killed in a hunting accident," Clarke said with a little sob.

Bellamy pulled Clarke to him, unable to bear the distance any longer, "She was lying, Princess."

Clarke melted against him, positioning one ear over his heart. After a while she looked up at him again, her blue eyes clear and a smile hovering on her lips.

"You're alive," she whispered, just before she brought his lips down to her own.

**Thanks for reading! Please review! I love hearing from y'all! :)**


	21. It's Always Been You

**This one is short, but I'm gonna be honest and say that for some reason I am sooooo in love with this thing! Hope y'all like it too! :)**

Clarke was curled into Finn's side as they watched a movie he'd chosen. It seemed that he always chose these days- where they ate, what they did… The independent part of her rebelled at this but if this was who she was meant to love then she needed to get used to these things.

She'd spoken to her mother about it, which had been a monumental mistake. All her mother could see was a wealthy philanthropist, and Abby was constantly telling her what a catch her fiancé was.

Clarke's mother rolled her eyes at every complaint her daughter made.

"Love isn't always exciting, Clarke," her mother had said again and again.

So, she simply tried to ignore the things that drove her crazy and the suffocating feeling of being trapped somewhere she didn't want to be. She did love Finn, but sometimes she wondered if it was out of obligation instead of true affection.

Clarke looked up at him, his gaze glued to the screen not reacting at all to her fingers drawing unintelligible patterns upon the expanse of cotton covering his chest. In moments like these it was hard for her not to recall a pair of burning brown eyes, the feeling of his dark curls tangled in her grasp, and the crushing feel of his strong arms.

His love had been exciting and intoxicating, and she'd been consumed from the moment she'd met him all those years ago. There were still nights when he haunted her dreams and she would wake with his name on her lips.

Leaving him behind had been the hardest thing Clarke had ever done in her life, but she knew that she wasn't good for him. He was free and wild, and being with her would only bring him pain. Her mother would only destroy them both. She could handle the destruction of herself, but she couldn't live with his.

The rain pelting the windowpane seemed to echo her dreary mood, and the movie Finn had chosen wasn't helping. It was some weird horror film that made him jump at every sound, which included the soft knock that sounded on the door of her apartment.

"I'll get it," Clarke muttered, disentangling herself from his grasp before making her way to the door.

She pulled it open, her eyes widening at the man who stood before her. His dark curls were dripping wet, brown eyes boring into hers, his hands shoved into the pockets of his wranglers. His white t-shirt clung to his skin, his black leather jacket fitting better than anything should. His black boots were coated in mud, and his motorcycle helmet was slung under one arm.

"Bell," Clarke breathed his name like a prayer.

"Clarke, I…" Bellamy said taking a step closer.

He was dripping water and smearing mud on her floor but she didn't care. He was here! It wasn't a dream this time- she could reach out and touch him if she wanted…

"What's he doing here," Finn said, causing both Bellamy and Clarke to take a step back.

They stared at each other, both silent and both tormented.

"I… I should go. Goodbye Clarke," Bellamy said, turning to go.

Clarke stared after him dumbly, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She'd never realized what seeing him again would do to her, and now she felt as though she'd been given something that she hadn't even known she'd been missing.

She looked at Finn, watching as he closed the door. He locked it, took her hand, and attempted to lead her back to the couch. She dug in her heels, refusing to budge. She'd lost Bellamy once, and she wouldn't do it again.

"Clarke," Finn said, staring at her as though she had two heads.

"I'm sorry, Finn," she whispered, tearing her hand from his grip.

Clarke ran from her apartment, not bothering to look back. She took the stairs two at a time, rushing through the large glass double doors and into the rain. Her bare feet pounded against the pavement as she ran, trying to reach him and hoping she wasn't too late.

She finally found him, sitting on his motorcycle with his head in his hands. Rivulets of water coursed down her face, dripping from her chin to run down her neck. Her clothes were soaked, but she didn't care.

"Bellamy," Clarke called, watching as he tensed.

Clarke approached slowly, stopping when she was within arm's reach. He didn't look up as she ran a hand through his damp curls, her hand coming to rest against the back of his neck.

Before she could move, he was standing over her. His dark eyes roamed over her face, and his hands gripped her hips. Then his mouth descended upon her own, his lips moving softly and urgently- reminding her how it felt to be loved by this man.

When he pulled away, Clarke looked up at him with a smile. His arms were wrapped around her, his heart beating against her chest. This was what love felt like; this is what she'd been missing.

"I missed you," Clarke sighed, his fingers dancing along her spine.

"I missed you too, Princess," Bellamy replied, his deep voice rumbling in her ear.

She grinned as he shrugged out of his leather jacket, slipping her arms into the too big sleeves before zipping it up. He handed her his helmet, and smirked as she slipped it over her wet blonde curls.

Clarke watched as he straddled the motorcycle, feeling as though everything had finally fallen into place. She was just about to climb on behind him when she heard Finn's desperate shouts in the distance.

She turned to watch as he approached, his pace slowing until he stopped altogether.

"Go back, Finn," Clarke said with a shake of her head, "I'm where I'm supposed to be."

"Don't do this, Clarke," Finn begged.

"Coming Princess," Bellamy asked suddenly.

Clarke could hear the fear in his voice, and she knew that Bellamy was where her heart lay all along. She wouldn't lose him again, couldn't lose him again. So, she climbed on the Harley wrapping her arms around Bellamy, happy for the first time in six months.

Before they pulled away, she slipped the ring from her finger, tossing it behind her. She felt bad for the way things ended, but she would never regret leaving with Bellamy. As his warmth seeped through his t-shirt and into her fingers, she knew this was right.

For Clarke it had always been Bellamy, would always be Bellamy. Tonight was the beginning of her forever. With the man she loved in her arms, she had to say that her future looked bright.

**Thanks for reading! Please review! :)**


	22. Between Love and Hate

**Sorry it's been so long guys! Life has been cray cray! Hope y'all like the update! Thanks for all of the follows and reviews! Y'all are the absolute best! :)**

**Between Love and Hate #22**

Clarke stared at the back of Bellamy's head, her gaze traveling down his neck and fixated on the tense set of his shoulders. When he'd happened upon her eight days ago she'd been close to death, bleeding from a wound inflicted by a Grounder with a grudge.

At the time she'd been so engrossed in her self-deprecation that she hadn't bothered to look after herself. She was starving and dehydrated when he found her, and barely conscious.

If she lived to be one hundred, a big IF on earth, she would never forget the look in his eyes- a wild terror that reached into her chest, forcing her heart to beat. Shadowed memories of him crying, choking sobs and tears that fell only to trail down her own cheeks. She hoped to never put him through that again.

Now he was stoically silent, barely looking her in the eye. He walked ahead of her, only glancing back to make sure she was still following. He was quick, just a flash of his dark eyes before he was scanning the trail ahead once more.

Clarke would admit that Camp Jaha was the last place she wanted to go. Each step made her stomach roil and her lungs ache, but Bellamy kept her placing one foot in front of the other. The one time she'd ducked behind a tree for some privacy only to hear his tortured shouts fixed that. No matter what, she was going back.

However, at the moment she was getting tired. Her side was burning, and she had a sinking feeling that she'd ripped her stitches if the warm sticky feeling against her skin was any indication.

"Can we stop for the night," Clarke asked, hating the hint of fragility that still clung to her voice.

She watched as Bellamy came to a stop, his dark gaze finally resting on her for more than a millisecond. His brow furrowed, his hands fisting, and she knew he was blaming himself- berating himself for not stopping sooner.

"It's fine, Bell," Clarke said, letting the nickname slip, "I'm just tired, but we made good time today."

Bellamy gave a jerky nod, tossing his pack to the ground before going to gather wood for the fire. He stayed in hearing range, and kept her in sight if he could. He made quick work of the task, coming back and setting aside his neat pile of kindling.

Clarke observed his practiced movements as he arranged a circle of rocks before building a little teepee of sticks at the center. In a matter of moments he had a good fire going and was laying out the sleeping bags.

"Come here," he said gruffly, motioning to one of the sleeping bags.

Clarke complied, knowing there was no point in arguing. She sat down before him, shivering as his fingers brushed her skin when he gently pulled up her shirt to examine the long cut.

"Cold," he asked, cutting his dark eyes up to look at her.

She shook her head no, wincing as he poked at the broken stitches.

"You should have told me," he growled, pulling the med kit from his pack.

"I didn't want to slow progress," Clarke spat, tired of his surly attitude.

"Don't even go there, Clarke," Bellamy hissed, "You know I would've stopped."

"I know, but then I would've had to listen to your grousing all night," Clarke retorted, crossing her arms with a yelp.

"Sit still," Bellamy ordered, his touch gentle as he moved her arms back to her sides.

Nothing more was said as he disinfected the angry gash. Clarke was happy to sit in silence, watching him bite his lip in concentration as he threaded the needle with an apology in his eyes. She didn't even move as he began to mend the ragged edges of her skin.

She could see a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, and she hated that she couldn't do this for him. By the time he'd finished his hands were shaking, and she had no idea how he managed to get the bandage in place.

Bellamy rose, turning away from her as he washed his hands in the nearby stream. He splashed water on his face, trying to rid his mind of the bloodstained images that spotted his memory.

He could still see her, blue eyes fixed on the stars and skin far too pale. He'd thought her dead, and he'd nearly lost it then and there- nearly gave in to the hopelessness that had threatened to consume him for months. Then he was mesmerized as a puff of white escaped her lips, her chest rising and falling with life.

What happened after that was a blur of blood and tears. He didn't sleep for three days as he kept watch over her. He never allowed his eyes to close until he was sure she wouldn't slip into eternity while he slept.

"Are you ok," Clarke called, breaking him from his thoughts.

He grunted, walking to the fire and settling down across from her. He found he couldn't sit there long, memories brutally assaulting him until he had to get away.

"I'm going to hunt. Stay here," he said, his voice rough.

Clarke watched him go, feeling the cold more keenly as he turned his back and disappeared into the tree line. She lay down, wrapping the blanket firmly around her, and allowed her eyes to close.

She woke much later, the moon shining down and frost white on the ground. She looked across the fire to find Bellamy cooking some meat, the flames dancing in his velvety gaze.

She sat up, her breath catching at the twinge of pain in her side. Of course Bellamy noticed, his eyes darting quickly to her face. When he had assured himself that she was fine he brought his attention back to their meal.

"That smells good," Clarke said groggily.

"Mmhmm," Bellamy hummed.

"Rabbit," she asked.

"Mmhmm."

"Have you forgone all conversation now," Clarke queried angrily.

"Mmhmm."

"Ugh," she groaned, "What is your problem?"

"Don't have one," Bellamy replied.

"Talk to me, Bellamy," Clarke pled, "I know you're angry with me for leaving, but-"

"Stop," Bellamy snapped, "Just stop, please, Clarke."

For some reason that one utterance hurt her more than she thought anything could. She fell silent then, unsure what to do to fix the obvious rift between them. Finally she just lay back down, rolling away from him.

When the food was done, Bellamy tapped her shoulder.

"Eat," he said.

"Not hungry," she replied.

"Eat," he said more forcefully.

"No," Clarke said, tired and heavy hearted.

She heard him settle back in his place as far from her as possible. She hated that distance, but she had not idea how to span it. She fell into a restless sleep, the kind of sleep haunted by the past.

Clarke woke again hours later, her eyes fluttering open to peer into the darkness. The fire was just a pile of glowing embers- smoke curling heavenward. She lay in the stillness facing the forest until she heard Bellamy groan.

She could barely make out his sleeping form at the other side of their small camp, her eyes struggling to focus. She watched as he began to writhe against the blankets, his groans turning into whimpers that quickly turned into tormented screams.

"Clarke," he cried, "Clarke! Princess don't leave!"

The sound tore at her heart, and soon she was scrambling to kneel beside him. She laid a gentle hand on his chest, and another on his cheek.

"Bellamy," she called softly, "Bellamy, wake up."

His eyes flashed open, fixing on her in terror.

"Are you ok," he asked, shooting into a sitting position as his hands cupped her face.

"I'm fine," she said, "Are you ok?"

He didn't answer, the only sound being the wind rustling through the trees and his labored breathing.

"No, Clarke. I'm not ok," he answered finally, "I thought I could do it on my own. I thought I could lead them without you, but I couldn't."

She just stared at him, watching as he began to unravel. His dark eyes were liquid pools of agony, and he looked older. Not like he'd aged physically, but like he'd been tarnished by the weight she'd forced him to bear. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in the callouses of his hands.

"I couldn't stay, Bellamy. No matter how much I wanted to," Clarke said, reaching out to him.

"Don't lie to yourself," Bellamy spat, angrier than she'd ever seen him, "You took the easy way out! You left! Left me to deal with their questions, their anger, their fear. I had to bear it all!"

"So that's what this is really about," Clarke jeered, "You're angry because for once in your life you had to take some responsibility!"

She hardened herself against the look of hurt that washed over his features, his jaw clenching tight.

"I'm not doing this with you," he growled, moving away from her.

"Just shut me out. That's all you've done. You don't care one whit about me, Bellamy. You're just dragging me back so you can go back to doing whatever the heck you want," Clarke mocked.

Bellamy whirled around, his gaze flaming with rage. He grabbed her shoulders roughly, bringing her face mere inches from his. She could feel his hot breath as it ghosted over her cheeks, his lip curled in a feral snarl.

"Don't ever tell me how I feel, Clarke," he growled, "Especially when it comes to you."

"Then enlighten me, Bellamy," she whispered, "How do you feel?"

For the first time in months Clarke was granted an uninhibited view of Bellamy Blake's soul. She could see the pain, the longing, the fear. It took her breath away.

His grip on her shoulders loosened slightly, but he didn't move.

"The day I found you, I thought you were dead. I stood there wondering how I was going to live without you, and I wanted to die too. I had nightmares before, Clarke, of what it would feel like to find you and be too late. Now I know, and it scares me. I go back to that day every night, and every morning I have to touch you to make sure you're real and not another one of my hallucinations. I can't lose you again. I need you too, Princess."

Clarke swallowed thickly, watching the tears as they tracked down his cheeks. He was utterly devastated and it was her fault. She'd done this to him!

"I'm so sorry, Bell," she sobbed, ignoring the pain in her side as she held on to him tightly, "I thought you would be better off without me. I don't want to destroy you like I did Finn."

She felt more than heard his sigh, a mixture of relief and vexation, "Clarke, I'm not Finn. I love you, and I would go to immeasurable lengths for you, but I also want to be a man you're proud of. I won't sacrifice your trust in me or my integrity because at the end of the day I want to be able to look you in the eye and be able to face my own reflection."

Clarke relaxed against him, his words a balm to her tattered heart. She knew she'd loved Finn, but those feelings didn't hold a candle to the way she felt about Bellamy. Finn would be her first love, but she knew deep down that Bellamy was her last.

"I love you," she whispered against his neck, her fingers toying with the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pressed a gentle kiss to the exposed skin near her shoulder.

"I love you too, Princess."

For the first time since she'd walked away, Clarke felt safe. They talked until the sky tinged pink, the sun bathing the earth in its golden glow. As she watched the light crest the trees, Clarke felt clean and new- like her wrongs were truly in the past and her future could be bright and filled with love.

As she lay in Bellamy's arms, she couldn't help but recall what Lexa had told her about love being weakness. At the time she'd believed it, or at least thought she did. Looking back, she could see why the Commander had said it but that didn't make her any less wrong.

What Lexa hadn't known was there were different kinds of love. Finn's love had been weak. It bowed under pressure until it snapped. That love was a flash in the pan, burning out as quickly as it had begun.

Then there was Bellamy's love, strong and steady as the man himself. He gave her confidence and freedom. She was secure. She'd seen the darkest corners of his soul, had fought him, and hated him.

She smiled, remembering all the many times she and Bellamy had been at each other's throats. There had been more passion in those moments with him than she'd ever had with Finn. There was a fine line between love and hate, and the scales had definitely tipped where the Rebel king was concerned.

"A penny for your thoughts," Bellamy smirked as he doused the fire.

"I just love you," she said as she came to stand before you.

"Mmmm," Bellamy hummed as he wrapped his arms around her, "I think I could get used to that."

"You'd better," Clarke smirked, "because I really like saying it."

"Then keep saying it, Princess. I've been waiting since that dropship door opened, and I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing it," Bellamy whispered before his lips met hers in a sweet, gentle kiss.

"Are you ready to head back," Clarke asked when he pulled away, his forehead resting against hers.

"Whenever you are," Bellamy replied, "Where you go, I go."

"Then let's go home," she said, her fingers entwining with his.

Clarke knew that going back wasn't going to be easy, but with Bellamy at her side she could do anything. She was ready to face her family and friends, ready to become the leaders she and Bellamy were destined to be.

**Thanks for reading! Please review! :D**


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